


The Aftermath of an Interrupted Duel

by SaoirseAisling



Category: Star Wars (Marvel Comics), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6341869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaoirseAisling/pseuds/SaoirseAisling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div>
  <p>Yet another unofficial continuation (with the permission of the author) to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4837094/chapters/11101982">Chapter 03</a> of <b>Where Our Interpid Hero Doesn’t Get Away</b>.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparklight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Where Our Intrepid Hero Doesn't Get Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837094) by [sparklight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight). 



> Dedicated to the wonderful sparklight for her absolutely enthralling story **Where Our Interpid Hero Doesn't Get Away** which I really cannot stop re-reading... Though, sparklight, you seriously need to stop throwing all these rabid Plot Bunnies at me. xP I'm drowning here...  
>  Special thanks as well to [Glarinetta](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Glarinetta/pseuds/Glarinetta) for giving me that last, little boost I needed to finish writing this story. Because of your comment, I got the determination and inspiration to meet my deadline. =) I hope you find this worth the wait.  
> Lastly, may all of you who drop by have a good read!
> 
> \------------
> 
> {"Words."} - Conversation said over the comlink  
> : _Words_ : - Conversation via the Force

“I said,” snarled Luke Skywalker, the fury, fear and slowly rising confusion clear in his voice, “ _let go of me_!!” 

The youth accompanied his demand by tugging and twisting his arms viciously. This proved to be all in vain; the vise-like grip of Darth Vader never weakened or wavered in the slightest. He had never dreamt the Dark Lord would be this strong! The gigantic man ignored him and his words and actions with such dismissive ease the youth felt his anger spike and his efforts to escape increase in ferocity. 

Entirely unaffected by his prisoner’s wild struggling, the Sith stalked rapidly down an undamaged corridor of the Weapons Factory, inexorably dragging the youth along behind him. Growling out a Huttese curse, Luke abruptly changed tactics. The young rebel darted forward and aimed a harsh kick at the closest kneecap—taking into account the billowing black cape. He felt a vicious surge of triumph as he hit his mark dead center but, to his shock, the knee did not buckle. In fact, as the heel of his boot connected, Luke felt the undeniable _solidness_ of the joint. The unnatural hardness… that he recognized instantly. 

_Durasteel_. 

Darth Vader’s knee and lower leg wasn’t made of muscle and bone but was a _prosthetic_. 

_Clone War era too_ , the mechanic in him noted with admiration. _Solid durasteel prosthetics went out of circulation in favor of their synthskin counterparts more than ten years ago but, if you consider it, they were far superior in make..._

Belatedly, Luke realized the fingers curled so unforgivingly around his wrists were also of the same solidness. He faltered in his struggles, reeling at this discovery. He swallowed shallowly; staring up at his captor with wide eyes. Vader had paused when Luke had made his unknowingly useless attack; the black helmet swiveling to fix on him briefly as though catching his thoughts before returning to stare ahead of them again. With a harsh yank on Luke’s captive hands, he urged them on down along the hallway once again. 

Luke hastily returned to pulling and wriggling with all his might. Not that it made any difference. 

_You know this is useless, right?_ , the soundless voice pointed out calmly. _Aside from being made of solid, high quality durasteel, Clone War Era prosthetics have heavy duty gyros which is why they’re so bulky compared to their newer counterparts. What they lose in appearance they more than made up for in functionality, durability and, most of all, power. From the feel of these alone; we are talking about really high quality prosthetics even for Clone War Era models…_ Luke firmly told his inner mechanic to shut it or give him information he _could_ use to get away. 

The sudden silence inside his head made Luke scowl deeply. Nonetheless, he didn’t stop or ease in his attempts to break free; he absolutely refused to give up despite how bleak his prospects looked. He doggedly ignored the rising pain in his wrists too. 

Listening to his son’s (very loud) thoughts, Vader smirked; easily dismissing the stinging ache this caused as the scars on his face stretched. _Stubborn_ , he observed and, in spite of the enormity of the situation, he felt a ripple of amusement. _He may have her stubbornness but he possesses my passion, my piloting talent, my Force Sensitivity **and** , apparently, my mechanical expertise as well. _

Discovering this new facet of his son was very satisfying. However, the pleasure was short-lived. Boiling rage swept away the tiny ember of delight as he realized he should have known this, and so far more, about _his son_ long before now. 

_It was nineteen years late_. 

Luke stilled, inhaling his next breath sharply, raggedly, as the very air around him turned _icy_ and _crushing_. The dark rage he had felt from Vader earlier was nothing compared to the _feral, towering wrath_ radiating from the man now. His own anger quailed underneath this onslaught, supplanted by the first, very real stirrings of fear. 

Vader immediately sensed the shift in his son—the sudden _true_ fright the boy felt—and quickly wrapped his fury close around him. His son was not to blame. He would not allow himself to harm his newfound child; he would not repeat the mistake he had made with his boy’s mother. 

All of the fault rested on his traitorous masters; on both the former _and_ the current; on _Kenobi_ and on _Sidious_. 

Oh, yes, while Kenobi was out of his reach; Sidious was not and he would pay very dearly. Vader would ensure it. 

Luke felt himself relax when the festering, overwhelming anger all but vanished. Now, that black bonfire burned low, contained. However, this rage was still very perceptible to his untrained senses. The dark blaze reminded the youth of a hunting Greater Krayt Dragon; the terrible beast was merely awaiting the right prey to unleash itself upon. 

These black flames were strangely warm where the tendrils touched him, constantly running along his body and awareness; stroking with a confusing amalgam of fierce protectiveness and dark possessiveness. _Wait, **what** …?_ Luke shook his head, his confusion over this easily banishing the tiny slivers of fear he had been feeling. He had never let fear rule him long after all. _What the hell was going on?!_ The youth thought. _Why was Darth Vader feeling this? And towards him? …Actually, since when did **Darth Vader** have **feelings** to start with?!_

_Not important right now, Skywalker!_ Luke told himself firmly. _Focus on getting yourself out of this!_ Aloud, he snapped. “Stop dragging me around already! Hey, I’m talking to you!!” 

Vader didn’t bother to answer him but when he renewed his efforts to escape, the Dark Lord’s gloved fingers slowly tightened; grinding the bones of Luke’s wrists together painfully. The youth hissed out his discomfort and he ceased his movements; the instant he did, the grip eased fractionally. The Sith’s pace lengthened even more; forcing the youth into a jog to keep in step or fall and, likely, be dragged along since he doubted Vader was going to stop if he did. Luke was sorely tempted to just let himself drop and force the Dark Lord to pull his body after him like a— 

“If you do so, Boy, I will _carry_ you.” 

Luke gaped up at the broad back in front of him, fleetingly wondered how Vader even knew what he was thinking before what the man had said registered and took precedence. “You _wouldn’t_!!” He burst out in shock and dismay. A flare of outrage raced down his spine at the very thought of being carried like some insolent child. This was followed instantly by a part of him sneering in blatant disbelief over the very idea of this ever happening. 

_Darth Vader_ would never lower himself to carrying some nameless, worthless rebel. Luke wasn’t that foolish or naïve to be tricked so easily into obeying him! 

Besides, he was sick of being hauled around like a leashed eopie. He was going to prove to Darth Vader he was far more obstinate than those notoriously stubborn creatures ever were. 

Giving the towering man a glare, Luke stopped moving. 

He pitched over as the Dark Lord stalked onwards and braced himself for the inevitable pain of colliding onto the duracrete floor— 

—except, he never did. 

Vader whirled in mid-step to face him and pulled the youth up even as he began to fall; _finally_ releasing his abused wrists after Luke was upright. Luke’s freedom, however, was fleeting. Before he could even think of running, let alone even start to move his arms, Vader had already hooked an arm around his waist. Crouching, the Dark Lord effortlessly hoisted the youth over one shoulder in a single fluid and extraordinarily swift movement. 

Luke only managed a loud grunt as his stomach encountered the very hard armor covering Darth Vader’s shoulder instead of the duracrete floor. He hung there docilely, staring down in frozen incredulity, at the seemingly endless, rippling cascade of the Sith’s black cloak. 

His stunned mind was far too slow in realizing what had just transpired. 

_**Yes**_. **_Darth Vader was carrying him_**. 

This impossibility took several seconds more to settle firmly in his mind as having _actually_ happened. By then, the Sith had already turned back around sharply and had long resumed striding down the corridor. 

_You will discover, my son,_ Vader thought to himself with dark amusement and satisfaction. _I am not one to cross, among other things_. He waited with concealed anticipation to see how his boy handled _this_. He was only further entertained when his son remained silent and compliant for half a minute. 

“Wh—PUT ME DOWN!!” Luke finally shrieked, caught between mortification and indignation. 

Naturally, Vader ignored him and merely secured the back of his knees with his other arm as he reached the end of the hallway and turned the corner. 

Only then did Luke think of struggling. 

Again, far too late for this to make any sort of difference whatsoever. This, at least, the youth realized quickly once he wriggled and squirmed with as much success as his earlier attempts of getting free of Vader’s hold. _What do you know,_ the soundless voice observed. _His entire lower arm is a prosthetic too; not only the hand. Bad luck, huh?_

Luke wasn’t sure who he wanted to curse at more; Vader or his very unhelpful mind. 

They had traversed halfway across this corridor when Luke arrived at a horrifying epiphany: Vader was clearly going to carry him to… wherever it was they were going. 

The prospect of _anyone_ seeing him like this made Luke cringe and he nearly made an audible noise of distress. 

His hands clutched the thick material of the cape tightly and he drew in a long, deep breath; steadying and bracing himself for what he knew he had to do. The silence was broken only by the heavy footfalls of the Dark Lord. The youth grimaced and huffed. The words would not come out easily; the sullen purse of his mouth refused to release the concession he knew he needed to make. 

Vader would accept no less from him, he was sure. 

Feeling his grimace deepen into a scowl, Luke plowed through a few failed attempts until he finally grumbled out sulkily. “…You’ve made your point.” He inhaled again, and finished quickly now that he had said the worst of it. “You can put me down now; I’ll walk on my own feet.” 

Vader took several wide steps before answering. “And, what _exactly_ is my point, young one?” 

Luke growled lowly. _Of course_ , Vader would insist he spell it out. 

He mentally directed an especially foul Huttese swearword at the Dark Lord and gasped as the arm around his waist squeezed harshly. 

“It is best you answer quickly, young one, or I promise you I will simply carry you around until I see fit to stop doing so; no matter what audience is present to witness this spectacle!” The Sith hissed. 

Luke felt his blood both chill and boil at this. “Your _point_ ,” he practically spat, nearly biting his tongue in his haste and fury. “is that you don’t know how to bluff!” 

“Barely adequate.” Vader intoned. “I will clarify so there is _no_ misinterpretation. I will _always_ keep my vows; whatever they may be especially those I make or will make involving _you_. Do you understand precisely what this means?” 

The chill traveling his veins turned glacial; dousing the flame of his rage. “Perfectly.” Luke ground out; he refused to admit how much this unnerved him. There was trepidation and anticipation swirling around this proclamation; a very weighty promise in itself… and yet so much more as well. Luke could not begin to fathom the countless layers he could sense. He only knew he had barely scratched the surface of these too cryptic and yet impossibly blunt words of the Dark Lord of the Sith. 

“We will see.” 

Vader walked forward a few more meters before stopping and loosening his iron hold so Luke could slide off his shoulder and drop down onto the duracrete. Staring up at the black helmet, Luke did not bother to acknowledge, or rather willfully ignored, how the arm wound about his waist _lingered_. He was already far too confused to try and make heads or tails of _that_. It didn’t help he was very painfully aware of the burning in his cheeks. He was _not_ blushing! 

He hurriedly pulled away but, yet again, was still far too slow. 

The now familiar durasteel hand shot out and snatched up first one wrist then snagged the other with ease. 

“Predictable.” Vader rumbled and Luke scowled up at him, the humor lacing that single word was impossible to miss. “Come.” 

The Dark Lord wheeled away and strode off; once more towing Luke in his wake. 

Luke allowed himself to let out an inarticulate noise as he half-jogged to keep in pace. 

The rest of the short journey was made in silence. 

The unlikely pair swept back into the circular-shaped room of the Weapons Factory’s central power station to find a crowd of Stormtroopers and a trio of Imperial officers. Two lieutenants, Luke recognized from a glimpse of one of the rank bars he managed, were working frantically on the numerous consoles; the last officer calling out frenzied orders was Overseer Aggadeen. Luke winced slightly when the cacophony hit him as Vader and he passed the threshold. Shrill alarms intermingled with their loud, rushed words. The overhead lighting was red; flashing in warning and the air itself was nearly palpable with the fear and barely controlled panic present in the room. 

However, at the imposing sight of Vader, the panicked chatter went silent and the white-armored men and officers went rigid in salute. Luke could appreciate the sentiment. 

Overseer Aggadeen instantly approached the towering form, pale and sweating profusely. “Lord Vader, I am Overseer Aggadeen.” He greeted unsteadily, executing a deep, jerky bow. “I we—” 

“Dispense with the pleasantries and _report_ , Overseer.” Vader cut him off curtly. He waved at the lieutenants dismissively. “Continue your tasks.” 

The lower officers hastily obeyed, now whispering furiously to each other while the Stormtroopers remained as they were; poised and ready for any commands. 

Aggadeen swallowed audibly. “The rebels have triggered a meltdown in the Reactor Power Core and all the safety restraints have been disabled.” 

The man’s dark eyes flickered to Luke, glinting in recognition. He was clearly inquisitive but too terrified of the Sith to ask about the youth when Vader said nothing. Luke glanced around; reaching into the Force he found that the Stormtroopers were equally curious about him—the lieutenants were too engrossed in trying to reverse what Han, Leia and Artoo had done to care or even take note of him. It was also hard to read the Force, he realized; the Force Presence of Vader was so potent that it practically smothered everything. Luke decided he should focus on the Overseer; the man was speaking again. 

“Currently, my men are attempting to resolve the problem but have had no success. I advi—” 

“I will resolve this problem personally.” Vader interrupted him again. 

The Overseer immediately bobbed his head. “Of course, Lord Vader.” 

Vader turned to the nearest Stormtrooper and leveled a hand towards the man, gesturing sharply. A pair of heavy steel binders unattached themselves from his utility belt and went flying, spinning, across the room. Gasps of shock and awe rose from the Stormtroopers and Imperial officers alike, the lieutenants finally pausing in their work to stare. Luke was equally mesmerized. 

That was a mistake. 

While the young rebel was so caught up in watching the soaring cuffs, Vader wheeled to face him and, keeping one of Luke’s wrists in his iron grip, spun the boy around swiftly. Not allowing him to realize what was happening; Vader recaptured the other wrist and brought both arms behind his back. The binders came close, wrapping around his wrists and locked with a _click_ Luke felt more than heard. He had barely managed to let loose a wordless cry of protest over this; Vader was already turning him again. The Dark Lord then guided the still shocked boy into the arms of two Stormtroopers. 

“Keep him restrained.” 

Once he saw that Luke was secured, Vader swept over to the row of consoles—the lieutenants scattered at his sonorous rumble of “ _Move_.” and stood awkwardly around the anxious overseer. Not even bothering to take a seat, the Sith began to tap the buttons; his black-gloved fingers darting over the keys rapidly with astonishing expertise. 

Luke stared for a moment before he started to thrash violently against the hands holding him; writhing and kicking and spitting Huttese curses at the pair of Stormtroopers flanking him. He knew that Vader would succeed in reversing the Reactor Power Core’s meltdown and the unassailable knowledge that all of the effort and, most of all, the lives of the slaves they had paid for this mission would be wasted left him _furious_. The fact he was helpless to change this outcome only added fuel to the blaze of his anger. 

Even his friends may not survive this if—no, _when_ Vader went after them. Luke had no illusions that the Dark Lord would simply allow them to escape… 

One of the Stormtroopers, clearly fed up with the youth’s fierce struggles, backhanded him harshly. Luke’s head rocked back and he let out a pained grunt. 

The next instant the Stormtrooper was violently ripped away from Luke and sent hurtling into the closest wall with such bone-shattering force the durasteel caved around the body. The corpse hung there for a few seconds like some macabre sculpture before sliding down, leaving a crimson trail that was eerily stark on the shiny wall, to hit the floor with a wet, meaty thud; the sound heard even over the sirens. 

“ _Be gentle_.” the black-clad giant grounded out viciously; not even looking up or slowing in the slightest in his work. “The next one to harm the boy will share his fate.” 

The new Stormtrooper who grabbed Luke’s free arm did this with exaggerated care. The other Imperial trooper holding the youth quickly adjusted his own grip. Wide-eyed, Luke stopped completely in fighting the hands, flicking his gaze around. The nearly choking mix of shock and terror was practically tangible—some of it was his own, he admitted silently to himself. Although, these emotions were nothing next to the bewilderment he was feeling. What in the Nine Hells of Corellia was going on with Vader?! Luke had heard that the man was unpredictable but this was taking it too far. Why would the Sith care about him? He had thought that earlier was just a fluke, his misinterpretation of what he had felt in the Force. Now… 

Abruptly, the warning klaxons stopped and the flashing red lights reverted back into the steady white illumination. 

“All too easy.” Vader turned fluidly and strode back to his young captive. 

Luke, and his guards, went stiff when the Sith neared. Once he was close, Vader reached out and Luke just repressed his flinch and the urge to shrink away when the large fingers of the black-gloved hand slid under his chin, traced his jaw and tipped his face up. Those durasteel prosthetic fingers were incredibly gentle this time. Luke stared up into the red-tinted eye sockets, chest tight. 

“I want a medic to treat this bruise.” 

Luke swallowed around the dryness of his throat. “I’m fine. This is just standard Imperial hospitality.” He felt a touch of pride there wasn’t the faintest waver in his voice. 

Vader released him slowly. “Overseer?” 

“At once, Lord Vader. I’ll call a medic immedia—” 

“Swifter action, Overseer; less useless drivel!” Vader snapped, a clear hint of impatience coating his baritone. “What are your troops doing about the rebels infesting the factory? I have heard no updates nor have you made any commands to handle the situation.” 

“A moment, My Lord,” Overseer Aggadeen said, hastily activating his comlink, “Major Wethern, what has happened to the rebels?” 

{“We are in pursuit of the Rebels and the escaped slaves, Overseer. Some of the slaves were on foot and engaged several of our troops; we are in the process of recapturing them as I speak. We have been forced to kill some of the slaves, however, in the course of subduing them.”} 

“The slaves do not interest me,” Vader rumbled. “What of the rebels?” 

Overseer Aggadeen quickly relayed the question. 

{“The Imperial Walker they have stolen is currently being engaged near the south section of the facility, sir. Our forces are attempting to bring down the Walker, unfortunately, the rebels have managed to activate its primary cannons and are returning fire.”} 

“Tell him to continue with his efforts and, if he is unable to bring down the Walker, ensure he slows the rebels’ progress. They are clearly attempting to flee. I will be there shortly,” Vader commanded. He sent his young prisoner a glance before whirling and moving towards the door. 

Luke could only stare after him. The Dark Lord’s ebon cape flared out like the wings of some deadly predator setting out to hunt. Once again, Luke recalled the fearsome image of a Greater Krayt Dragon; if Vader released that rage he had felt earlier on his friends and the slaves… there would be nothing left of them. 

“Assign a platoon to guard the boy, if he struggles again; have the medic sedate him. Bring him to my shuttle and transport him to the _Adjudicator_. Deliver him into Captain Vax’s custody, inform him to utilize Protocol 17 in regards to the boy and have him secured in my private quarters then await my return.” The Dark Lord barked out his orders so rapidly Luke was left scrambling to keep up. However, what struck him were the Sith’s final words, said with dark relish and venomous promise. “I will deal with those rebels personally.” 

“ _No_!” Luke yelled, true terror catching his heart in a vise and clenching. “You don’t need to go after them!” 

Amazingly, Vader stopped to look at him over his black-armored shoulder. “Is that so?” 

“You’ve won already!” Luke spat out in bitter fury; his stomach twisting so badly he thought he would be sick. He hated admitting this to the Dark Lord, to stroke the man’s ego. _Not like he needs anymore victories laid at his feet,_ the youth thought resentfully. But he would repeat this painful truth if he had to if it could save his friends. The longer he kept Darth Vader off the battlefield and occupied, the better chances his friends had of getting away alive. He could only stall, buy them enough time to get to the Millennium Falcon and escape from Cymoon One. If Vader went after them now; they, and the few surviving slaves, would die. 

Like Ben. 

Like his father. 

“Just let them go… please.” He finished softly. He would beg if he had to, Luke realized with bleak determination. 

The Sith turned and strode back to him, only coming to a halt when they were barely a foot apart and far too close for Luke’s comfort. “It is hardly to my benefit if I do so.” 

Luke lifted his chin and glared up at him. “What will make it worth it for you then?” Inwardly, he was wondering what he was doing. What could he have to offer the Dark Lord? 

His son had certainly inherited _her_ effervescent kindness—and self-sacrificing nature. Vader made a special note to wean the boy out of such a dangerous weakness. No one in this galaxy deserved such generosity from his son—not even him. But, for now, he would show his son how this weakness could be used against him. 

“Overseer, additional orders,” Vader rumbled. “You will personally direct the Imperial Forces in dealing with the rebels until I join you. Order our troops to encircle the rebels and what remaining slaves are still free. Contain them and see to it none escape; if possible do not engage them once you have them trapped. Do not kill any of them, either. If you are able to capture them, I will reassess my evaluation of your lackluster performance.” Then, he growled sharply. “Clear the room.” 

The reactor control room emptied with truly enviable speed. 

Alone, Luke and Vader traded stares. Determined, fierce and desperate for the young rebel while, unseen by him, amused and predatory for the Dark Lord. 

“My terms are simple,” Vader began. “I will allow the rebels and what slaves they have accompanying them to leave unmolested. In exchange, you will submit yourself to me.” 

“What kind of submission are we talking about here?” Luke asked cautiously. This was not what he expected to hear! He had assumed Vader would want information on the Rebel Alliance. To learn every scrap of detail Luke knew of the workings of the Rebellion. Not this! 

“You will obey me without hesitation and make no attempts at escaping from my custody. You will also grant me the respect due my station and my… title…” Vader paused and seemed to peer at Luke with unnerving intensity. When Luke only gazed back blankly, the Dark Lord finished brusquely. “Lastly, you will answer all my questions truthfully and promptly.” 

“I won’t betray the Rebel Alliance!” Luke snapped immediately, feeling a surge of relief. _There we go; I knew he would want to kn_ — 

“I do not desire any information about your insignificant rebellion," Vader retorted. "I wish all pertinent information about _you_.” 

Speechless, Luke blinked, once more finding himself at a complete loss. Belatedly, he remembered the heated clash between them in the corridors; Vader’s actions and words, specifically, the Dark Lord’s clear efforts to control him. 

Luke shivered. Why was Darth Vader so… interested?—No, that was too light a word, _obsessed_? Yeah, definitely _obsessed_ —with him? 

The Force was murmuring to him in strident whispers but no matter how hard he strained, he couldn’t hear— “…just about me?” he echoed. 

“Only about you.” The man affirmed. 

“Those are _all_ of your terms?” Luke pressed, reeling. This was… far too generous, especially coming from Darth Vader. Surely, his obedience wasn’t so valuable! 

“Yes, do you agree?” 

Inwardly shaking himself, Luke willed his mind to focus on these… negotiations and countered quickly. “My terms first,” he declared. “I’m not going to just accept your terms until you give me what I want first.” 

Vader inclined his head. “State them.” 

The youth went quiet, collecting his thoughts. 

It was easy for him to tell when his son decided, the boy squared his narrow shoulders and tilted his chin up in an achingly familiar gesture of determination and defiance. How often had he seen her brace herself in such a similar manner? Just before one of her countless speeches in front of the Old Republic Senate, or just when she wanted to prove a particular point? Seeing so much of _her_ in his son was… equally exhilarating and excruciating. 

“You will allow the Princess, the captain of the freighter we came in, his first mate, a Wookie, an Astromech droid, a Protocol droid with them and all remaining slaves still alive, in your custody and those with the rebels, to leave the moon of Cymoon One and its system unmolested. In exchange, I won’t try to escape and I’ll answer all personal questions you ask about myself.” 

Within his mask, Vader blinked. _An Astromech droid and a Protocol droid? Interesting. But what I find most intriguing is my son’s choice of words; his terms are surprisingly very detailed and specific. Especially those involving the slaves. However_ … he smirked widely. _If he is hoping to outwit me, my son will find he still has much to learn._

“I find your terms acceptable, however, I do not agree to them. You did not include my condition where you submit yourself to me; that you won’t make no attempts to escape my custody and that you will obey all my commands as well as give me the respect due my station and title.” he pointed out silkily. 

The boy grimaced and looked away, his cuffed hands balling into fists behind his back. “…right. _That_.” 

There was a swell in the Force, a surprisingly venomous, so very defiant mental snarl of : _I’LL NEVER SUBMIT!_ : rolling across the newly awakened bond between them before the boy controlled himself. This was more than simple distaste his son felt over the concept of submission; Vader found himself utterly fascinated, barely quelling the powerful urge to demand why the boy was reacting as he did. He would have all of his answers once he had his son securely in his possession. Currently, there were other matters he needed to resolve first. 

The silence stretched out between them, pregnant with expectation and anticipation. 

“Your time is not infinite, young one.” 

A slew of emotions flittered over the boy’s face—but what ruled finally was _fear_. Fear for his friends; fear for the slaves. But absolutely none for himself. 

A Skywalker, _indeed_. 

Vader counted the seconds again then growled impatiently when his meager tolerance ended. “Do we have an accord, Luke Skywalker?” 

Luke started violently and he gawked up at the Dark Lord. “H-how?!” he stuttered, he broke off, biting his bottom lip harshly and wincing at the stab of pain. _How does Vader _know_ my name?!_

_So, she was able to give him the name she wanted so much for our child if it was a boy,_ Vader mused, letting the new rage he felt spill into the well he was slowly but steadily filling. _How foolish for them to have given him my name as well! Yet, it is so very fitting._

This was only more evidence of Obi-wan Kenobi’s foul duplicity; he had not only turned Padmé against him. The old man had stolen their child; _his son_. The mindlink they shared was even more undeniable proof; he needed no DNA test, no mundane method to prove their blood connection. 

This boy was _his_. 

_And he would have him_. 

“You will find, young one,” came the darkly satisfied voice, “I know _much_ about you and your past; far more than you can imagine. I accept all of your terms as long as you accept _all_ of mine. Now do you agree? Decide quickly. My patience is spent.” The Dark Lord then added softly, clear threat threaded through his bass. “Do you require incentive?” 

Luke stared, horrified. He didn’t realize how hard he was gritting his teeth until he felt them grind into each other and an ache shot through his jaw. The bruise on the side of his face throbbed. All of this, however, was distant and insignificant next to the dread filling him. 

The youth shook his head jerkily, his pale—blue, like his had been once? Vader wondered—eyes flashing with familiar fire. “You don’t have to give me any encouragement, Vader. I’ve come to my decision,” He bit out. 

“And it is?” 

_Like I have any other choice I could make?!_ Luke thought sullenly, pushing down the heavy nausea and the bitter howling denial deep inside himself. For the slaves, he would obey. For his friends, he would submit. 

When he spoke next, his voice was resolute and steady. “I accept all of the terms we have exchanged between us… We have an accord, Darth Vader.” 

“Done.” Vader pulled his comlink from one of the many pouches on his belt and activated it. “Overseer Aggadeen, report.” 

{“We have secured the sector and have cornered the Rebels and the Walker they are occupying at the southern boundary of the compound, Milord. We managed to damage the machine’s legs to ensure it collapsed. Our efforts to capture them is proving difficult, however. We cannot approach without being fired upon.”} 

“Hold your positions; I will be arriving shortly. Also, assemble all of the slaves you have recaptured and bring them to the site.” 

“Understood, Lord Vader.” 

Vader flicked off the device then made a sharp wave of his hand. Luke blinked as he felt the binders come free and heard the pair of cuffs hit the floor, clattering loudly. He brought his hands in front of him and carefully began rubbing his sore wrists; wincing as his fingers tingled when the blood flooded back into them. 

“Come. I will fulfill my terms of the agreement.” 

Silently, Luke obeyed, walking quickly so he was only a single step behind the Dark Lord of the Sith. 

There was a platoon of Stormtroopers and a medic waiting outside of the room when they exited. All of the Imperials saluted at the sight of Vader who did not even acknowledge the gesture, instead, the Dark Lord turned immediately to the medic. 

He tipped his head towards Luke. “Treat him.” 

The doctor nodded swiftly and approached the youth. 

“I’m fine!” Luke protested, retreating from the man but a large hand falling to grip his shoulder halted him. 

“You _will_ accept the treatment, young one.” 

The youth bit his lower lip and nodded grudgingly. That had been an order; Luke knew Vader was testing him and his own capacity to meet the terms they had agreed upon. Standing still, he allowed the Imperial doctor to check him over. The man did so with surprising meticulousness… or maybe, not so surprising. Luke noted how Vader loomed nearby, watching them closely; the large hand had only withdrawn when the doctor had to run the medical scanner over that part of Luke. At least, the doctor worked fast and he announced the only injuries the youth had were minor contusions. Since the bruise on his face was the worst of them and ultimately wasn’t too severe, the medic merely applied a generous swab of Bacta cream to Luke’s cheek and jaw. 

“Attend to the marks on his wrists as well,” Vader added and the man hurriedly did as he was told. Luke breathed a little easier in spite of himself when the lingering soreness faded away completely under the soothing effect of the medicine. 

Luke submitted to all of this without uttering a word, his eyes wandering around him. The platoon was equally silent, standing ready in two straight lines. When the medic made it clear he was finished by moving away from the youth and informing Vader with a quiet but audible murmur of “The treatment is complete, my Lord.”, the commander of the unit stepped forward immediately. 

“Lord Vader, we are ready to escort him to your shuttle and transport him to the _Adjudicator_ —” 

Vader raised his hand and the man instantly cut off the rest of his spiel. “Those orders are no longer in effect, Lieutenant. Your new orders are to insure the security of this Reactor control room. Further, you are to ensure the factory itself does not suffer any more additional damage. Deploy your men as you see fit; I will be taking custody of this prisoner. Have one of your men guide me to the nearest hanger with a functioning armored transport vehicle.” He paused and glanced to the medic. “You will accompany us in the event your skills are required.” 

There was a chorus of “Yes, My Lord.” and the soldiers began positioning themselves down along the hallway, several pairs breaking off and started marching along the corridor. To make patrol circuits, Luke suspected. The lieutenant waved to one of the troopers and when the man came close, directed him to lead Vader to the hanger he wanted. 

The soldier saluted. “This way, Milord.” 

The man hurried off and Vader followed him immediately, the Stormtrooper jogging briskly to keep ahead of the Dark Lord. Belatedly, Luke realized that one of Vader’s black-gloved hands had somehow found its way onto his shoulder again and he was tugged along. He bit down his cry of surprise and nearly stumbled but managed to recover and swiftly fell into step beside Vader. He tried to speed up or slow so he wasn’t next to the Sith but, unfortunately, the hand gripping him wouldn’t let him widen the gap between them. 

“You can let go, you know,” Luke muttered. “I’m not going to try to run off; we have a deal after all.” 

Vader did not respond and several seconds passed before the hand finally—reluctantly?—released him. Luke considered whether he should move back or forward before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. He felt very comfortable where he was, striding close alongside the Dark Lord. This revelation almost made him falter in his steps. What? How could he be feeling this?! 

To take his mind off this latest troubling conundrum, Luke sent a glance over his shoulder and saw the medic was trailing after them at a respectful and rather wide distance. The Stormtrooper trotting in front of them had a good couple of meters of space as well. This caused a small smile to tug up the corners of his mouth; amusement and understanding in the curve. 

The small troupe arrived at a large hanger shortly; clearly one that housed the factory’s complement of machines. 

“Return to your Commander and carry out the rest of my orders.” Vader intoned when he caught sight of the vehicles parked in neat rows. The soldier executed a smart salute and left. Luke could sense the man’s poorly concealed relief at the dismissal. He couldn’t help but envy the man just a little; being around Vader was incredibly overwhelming, severely taxing and downright confusing. Yet, Luke also found himself thrilled and energized. 

_Great, Han is right; I am crazy,_ Luke thought to himself wryly; watching the Dark Lord to see what he would do next. 

The Dark Lord didn’t keep him waiting; the Stormtrooper wasn’t even four steps away from them when Vader stalked off towards one of the transports. Luke noted that it was medium-sized and, from the design of the repulsors and engines array, clearly built for speed. Reaching the side of the vehicle, Vader keyed a sequence of numbers into the access panel. The hatch slid open and, without a single word, the Sith disappeared inside. 

Vader didn’t need words; Luke knew all too well what the Dark Lord expected from him. 

Fortifying himself for what was to come; Luke jogged over and entered the transport speeder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attempting a new writing style for this story. Readers of **In Which Things Are...** will be able to see the differences. Do let me know if this writing style is better (or worse); I'm trying to decide which one I should use for Star Wars.
> 
> Thank you very much for taking the time to read! And very special thanks for any Kudos, Bookmarks, Subscriptions and, especially, Reviews!


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Features the (nearly full) ensemble cast of Cymoon 1, and how the negotiations turn out... which goes as well as can be imagined when you have a very impatient, irate, protective and possessive Dark Lord, Stubborn Rebels, Confused Slaves and one poor Rebellious Son whose at the center of it all and struggling to do damage control.
> 
> ... I think I will leave the witty summaries to sparklight.
> 
> Please enjoy.
> 
> \------------
> 
> {"Words."} - Conversation said over the comlink  
> : _Words_ : - Conversation via the Force

In the fading light of day, the yellow sky of Cymoon One was now a deep, almost fiery orange. As night approached, there was a layer of clouds slowly choking the horizon; painting the factory moon in a sharp contrast of bright colors and slowly lengthening shadows. Luke Skywalker noticed all of this in passing as he quickly stepped out of the armored transport speeder Darth Vader had piloted to the southern edge of the Weapons Facility. He had known the Dark Lord was a master pilot but the way he had flown had left even Luke awed and secretly envious. It would take him _years_ before he would ever come close to matching such expertise. 

_Shows me just how much better he is than I am_ … _in a lot of things,_ Luke thought self-deprecatingly. 

Shaking himself out of his brooding, the youth once again found himself tailing behind Darth Vader and tried very hard not to compare himself to a well-trained dewback. Strangely, even as he thought this, Vader slowed and Luke found himself once more walking beside the Dark Lord. Had Vader done that intentionally to ease his discomfort? The very idea of Vader being so considerate and, with him, only added to the general sense of surrealism Luke was feeling. 

He still couldn’t work out why Vader had even made such a generous offer. What could the Dark Lord possibly hope to gain from him? He was just a former farmboy from a Rim World after all. He was nobody important. 

…unless, this involved his father? Luke felt a jolt race down his spine. It would explain why Vader knew his name. And didn’t Ben say Vader had ‘betrayed and murdered’ Anakin Skywalker? 

Deciding he had more important issues to deal with at the moment, Luke shelved the notion, along with all of his other far too befuddling observations involving the Sith, in one corner of his mind. He would think and worry about all of this later. Now… he had to make sure Vader kept his word and fulfilled all the terms of their deal. 

He would accept no less. 

Luke swept his gaze about, taking in the heavily armed Stormtroopers standing ready or moving about purposefully. There was a small army of battle machines circling them; speeder bikes, combat speeders, assault tanks and scout walkers. Luke found it extremely discomforting standing here amidst all of this white armor. And, while he was left alone, on some level, he discovered this just made it worse as he was even more conspicuous. The Dark Lord had not given the men any sign that Luke was to be restrained and it was very clear no one was brave, or likely suicidal, enough to inquire about him. They could all see his hands were plainly unbound but he imagined that the Imperials evidently assumed he was secure in some other manner. 

_Not that they’re wrong,_ Luke reflected bitterly. _It’s just the chains I have aren’t physical but are far too tangible and equally more binding._

He grimaced before he managed to control himself and wipe the expression off his face; he needed to appear assured and confident. Many lives counted on him. He noticed immediately how none of the white-clad men came anywhere near him; there was a very large ring of space afforded him too. 

This was probably because of the Dark Lord looming by his side and, Luke suddenly guessed, because of what had happened in the Reactor control room. Luke remembered the nearly tangible fear of the medic as he had treated him; how painstakingly careful he had been when handling Luke. The news of the incident with the Stormtrooper had certainly spread fast. 

What really caught Luke’s interest, however, was that whenever he made a move to come closer to one of the men, they would skitter away from him; a wave of unease and dread spiking in the Force. Luke took a small petty pleasure in making sudden steps towards whatever Imperial he wanted to unnerve. Watching them try to scramble away from him without looking like they were caused a little smirk to lift the corners of his lips. 

Luke could have sworn that Vader found this to be as amusing as he did. 

He tormented the Imperials a little more before stopping and telling himself to get serious. He needed all of his focus for this situation; he had to make sure he knew exactly what was happening and when to act if he had to. While Luke knew he could trust Vader to keep his word—the man’s vow in the corridor of the Weapons Factory rose to his mind and he didn’t need the Force to know that Vader had been brutally honest. What he had to consider was what his friends, or the slaves, might do. There were also the Imperials to take into account too. But Luke suspected they would make no objections; Vader would certainly see to it. 

Still, the lives of his friends, and the slaves, rested on him and Luke would take no gambles. He wasn’t going to underestimate Darth Vader either, not again. 

If Vader wanted him so badly; Luke would make sure the Dark Lord paid very dearly for him. 

The youth quickly spotted the Imperial Walker. He recalled how the massive war machine had nearly stepped on Vader and him in the main hanger of the Weapons Factory—it had looked very imposing back then but, now, it appeared nearly pitiful. The machine lay crumpled up against the side of a low building, likely a warehouse from the size and design. Its wall had obviously cradled the Walker when it had fallen; the heavy cracks in the duracrete were easily noticeable, spreading out in a spiderweb around the dented hull. Luke saw that its legs, particularly the left hind leg, were heavily damaged. 

Nevertheless, the cannons were clearly still fully functional. If any of the Imperials wandered too close the large batteries opened fire; the roar of their lasers splitting the air. Unfortunately, with the head pinned as it was against the wall and the ground, its targeting range was severely limited. Despite this, the machine’s head continued to swivel from side to side constantly, tracking what little it could. 

From the deadly aim they had exhibited; Luke knew who was manning those guns. 

_Leia_ … Luke thought, a soft smile wreathing his lips. The pleasure didn’t last, however, and he swiftly forced his mouth to flatten into a grim line. She was in danger; they all were. His friends and the slaves would only be safe once they were off this moon, in the Millennium Falcon, and in hyperspace. 

He glanced over to Vader as they came to a stop beside Overseer Aggadeen. 

The officer whirled quickly and saluted; the man looked more relieved than happy when he spoke next. “Lord Vader, as you have ordered, we have managed to contain the rebels and I have ordered all captured slaves to be assembled.” He gestured. 

Luke turned and stared, his heart thudding loudly and his chest felt suddenly so tight it hurt. 

Under the watchful eyes of the Stormtroopers, were a little over three dozen slaves. The aliens were huddled together, some were standing and others were sitting, all of them sporting various wounds, and were cuffed. But, what knocked the breath out of Luke; was the crushed expressions on their features. They had tasted freedom, and to have it taken away again had clearly broken their spirits. 

At Aggadeen’s loud words, several of them looked up and their eyes widened in recognition when they noticed him. Surprisingly, when many of the slaves caught sight of him, they straightened; the expressions on their faces shifting subtly. 

Luke quickly made a warding gesture then offered them a reassuring smile; mouthing carefully ‘It will be alright.’. 

Most of those who met his gaze and had seen his smile, and possibly even understood his soundless words, returned with shaky, determined smiles and jerky nods of their own. A few even managed to stare at him questioningly with evident concern. Several of them, the youth saw, looked ready to act at his command. Clearly, they weren’t as broken as he had first assumed. Luke had to smile at this, grim and satisfied. 

_This is worth it,_ he reiterated to himself, with calm conviction. _This is the right thing to do._

Unnoticed by Luke, Vader observed this exchange with keen interest. This explained why his son was so adamant about freeing even the slaves. Clearly, his boy had been the one to release them from their cages originally. He must feel responsible for them. 

His son was proving to be so much like her and so much like him. 

There was a sharp ache in his chest; Vader ignored the pain. Unbidden and unwanted memories bubbled up only to be burst and buried again. He would not put any value on the past; it was worthless, pointless, meaningless. 

The only thing Vader acknowledged, that mattered was his rising desire to have this child. 

After all, the more he knew about the boy; the more it showed that Luke Skywalker was his. 

Vader refocused on the Overseer. He wanted this situation concluded swiftly; he had long lost any interest in the rebels. He would much rather be learning all he could about his newfound son. “You have performed adequately in this manner, Overseer.” He rumbled. “However, when this issue is resolved; you will have yourself and all forces assigned to this facility subjected to a full re-evaluation and then you will all undergo a training regime _I_ will personally formulate. This moon is vital to the Empire and the fact this pitiful band of rebels nearly destroyed the factory is very disturbing.” 

Overseer Aggadeen swallowed audibly. “Understood, My Lord.” 

Vader turned to Luke. “I am certain you have the means to contact them. Inform your companions they are free to leave.” 

Luke nodded curtly. He activated the comlink on his wrist; feeling a small surge of relief that the device hadn’t been damaged earlier when Vader had been gripping his wrists so tightly. 

There was a slight crackle of static. 

{“Luke?”} 

Luke couldn’t help the grin as he heard Leia’s familiar voice. “Yeah.” 

{“Thank the Force! Did you get away?! If you did, get off Cymoon One. We’re locked down and we can’t find any way out of here. If you can get to us, try but we don’t have much time. Vader is coming—”} 

“Leia,” Luke cut in. “I—” 

Han’s agitated voice sounded over the device, drowning him out. {“Kid, don’t argue! Get to the Falcon; see if you can get Chewie to—”} 

Luke let out a huff of annoyance and broke in again. “Will the two of you stop talking and listen to me?! I know you’re stuck, and Vader isn’t coming. He’s already where you are! You can’t see him because the Walker’s head won’t turn that far.” He finished quickly. “I’m also out here; I’m still his prisoner.” 

Luke winced at the string of swearwords Han growled out and Leia loosed an especially vile curse of her own. Luke wondered where she had heard _that_ particular expletive and if she knew exactly what it meant… 

Feeling a dark shift in the Force, Luke glanced to the towering form beside him. It was clear that the Sith’s patience was fast wearing thin. 

{“Listen, okay?”} he snapped, his normally mellow tone curt. {“It’ll be alright.”} Luke paused to take a deep breath before he blurted. {“I’ve paid for your safe passage off this moon. For you and for all the slaves still alive.”} 

There was a long stretch of stunned silence. 

Luke hastily lowered his arm as yells (and shrieks) of disbelief erupted from the device. He waited until the pair was finished before raising his arm close to his face again. 

{“What?! Luke, What do you mean?!”} 

{“Kid, what the hell did you do?!”} 

“I made a deal with Vader,” Luke explained. “You’re all free to go.” 

{“Luke…”} Leia’s voice was strained. {“What did you give in return for all of this?!”} 

“Don’t worry, Leia. It has nothing to do with the Alliance; I made sure.” Luke dropped his voice to a near whisper. “Besides, I don’t know enough to really hurt the Rebel Alliance after all, right? Better me than you.” 

{“Luke!”} Han barked angrily. {“You’re an idiot if you think Vader is going to just let us walk away fr—”} 

“Enough!” Vader’s deep voice snapped out, startlingly loud and very clearly menacing. Luke knew his sonorous tone had easily carried into the cockpit of the Imperial Walker. “My clemency is at its end, Rebels! Your companion has already made it clear he has purchased your freedom. If you are unwilling to take the chance he offers you; I will simply forego the negotiations I have made with him and annihilate you here and now!” 

“You can’t do that!” Luke yelled angrily, a touch of desperation lacing his voice. Wheeling, he leveled a glare up at the Dark Lord. “We had a deal!” 

“They are refusing your generosity and I am more than willing to give them what is their due! Such pitiful ungrateful fools that they are!” Vader intoned derisively. 

Luke had the strangest feeling that Vader was not only furious but also severely affronted. Not because the Rebels didn’t believe him capable of keeping his word but because of his friends’ apparent ingratitude towards Luke and what he was clearly sacrificing for them. _Okay… I’m not going to think about that,_ he concluded, dazed and very unnerved. _Not now._

“If you kill them—” Luke started angrily. 

“—I will still have you.” Vader finished for him. “If you become uncooperative because your friends chose to die instead of live; I will simply have you sedated as I initially intended, young one. You have far more to lose than I in this matter.” The Dark Lord nodded to the medic who wordlessly pulled out a syringe from a medical kit attached to his belt. The man’s face was impassive but Luke had no doubts the Imperial doctor would carry out the Sith’s orders without question and swiftly. 

Realizing he had to salvage the situation, Luke lifted the comlink to his mouth. “Please don’t waste my efforts!” he pleaded into the channel. “I just want you all to survive this!” 

{“Luke, how can we trust Vader to keep his word?”} Leia countered. {“This is Darth Vader we’re talking about!”} 

{“Yeah, what’s to stop him ordering his people to shoot us the instant we get out of this Walker?”} Han added shrewdly. 

Luke grit his teeth and growled in frustration. “Because, either way, you’re going to be dead! If you come out and he orders his soldiers to shoot, yes, you die. But, if you don’t accept, he’s going to send his people in and you’re _still_ all going to be dead! I’m trying to save you here!” 

{“And you?”} Leia finally shot back with equal fury. {“What happens to you?! So we’re dead either way but what about you?!”} 

“You can’t save me; it’s too late for me but not for you guys. You have a chance to get out of here. Take what I’m offering.” 

{“Luke—”} Leia began at the same instance Han joined in with a {“Kid—”} 

“ _Commander Organa_ , _Captain_. _Listen very carefully_.” Luke’s normally gentle voice hardened to durasteel; silencing not only Han’s but even Leia’s coming words. “Vader managed to reverse the Reactor Core’s meltdown. This mission is a _complete_ failure; therefore, the next best option is to get out of here with as many of our people alive as possible. I’m beyond help but the rest of you are not. And, while we failed in destroying the Weapons Factory; think about the lives you both can still save.” 

{“We don’t have that many of the slaves with us, Luke!”} Leia protested hurriedly. 

Luke was more than ready to counter this point and interrupted her again. “There are over three dozen slaves out here with me and most of them are injured. Can you imagine returning them to the life we just freed them from? Especially after what they did to get free? I doubt the Imperials will be merciful. My terms include _all living_ slaves, Leia, not just the ones with you. I can’t take them to freedom but you can. Besides yourselves, I want you to make sure they get out of here…” He trailed off and added softly. “ _Please_. For me.” 

There was another small stretch of silence then he heard Leia exhale deeply and murmur. {“Alright, Luke. For you. Tell Vader we agree to the safe passage and we’re coming out.”} 

Luke raised his head and looked at the Dark Lord. “They’re taking my offer. They’re coming out so don’t shoot.” 

“How gracious of them.” Vader rumbled dryly. Luke twitched at the level of sarcasm he could hear and feel pouring from the man. 

Vader looked to the Stormtroopers and officers around them and nodded curtly. “Keep your weapons locked, and at your sides,” he commanded. “I will _personally_ deal with anyone who even lifts his weapon.” 

There was a flurry of movement as the Dark Lord was obeyed. 

Luke watched this closely, to make sure none of the Imperials attempted to defy Vader but he wasn’t too surprised no one did. Satisfied, he focused on the hatch of the Walker as it swung open. Han stepped out first, his blaster in hand but, thankfully, the barrel was pointed skywards. He was followed immediately by Leia who also holding a weapon in her right hand; in contrast to Han, her weapon was pointed down. After the two rebels came the slaves—Luke made a hasty count; there were eleven—who had been with them and, finally, a little Astromech droid. 

Luke sent them a reassuring smile but he could see it did little to ease the apprehension and hostility hanging heavily in the air. 

“Is this all of you?” Vader questioned. 

“Pretty much,” Han confirmed casually. 

“Exactly what are we agreeing to, Vader?” Leia demanded, her voice filled with tightly coiled anger and hatred. 

“I am granting you, this man, a Wookie, a Protocol droid which I am assuming is with your ship, the Astromech droid at your side and all the slaves which remain alive free passage off of Cymoon One and out of its system.” 

Leia and Han exchanged startled looks; clearly surprised over the thoroughness of the details. 

“Kinda specific there, Your Lordliness,” Han drawled insolently. 

“You have your companion to thank for the specifics of the terms,” Vader rumbled. “He bargains well.” 

Luke felt his cheeks burn when he didn’t miss the _pride_ he could swear coated the baritone. 

Han and Leia traded glances again, both now perplexed and uneasy. Luke doubted they missed the emotion in Vader’s voice either. Around them, Luke could feel the Imperials shift uncomfortably; in the Force their bewilderment mixed with shock and curiosity was impossible to dismiss. A glimpse of Overseer Aggadeen revealed the man to be as poleaxed as his men and was constantly switching his wide-eyed stare between Luke and Vader. 

“And what exactly did our ‘companion’ give you in return for our free passage?” Leia practically spat. 

“It is of no concern to you, Your Highness.” Vader returned smoothly. “Be at ease, however. Your precious little resistance will not pay any price for your freedom. It has _nothing_ I want. I already have what I desire after all and I have _you_ to thank for it.” 

“ _You_ —” Her temper snapping its meager restraints, Leia started forward; her blaster rising reflexively to point at Vader. Instantly, Luke moved, putting himself in front of the Dark Lord and raised his hands in both a warding and soothing gesture. 

“Leia, don’t!” he cried frantically, knowing that if Leia fired and, even, _somehow_ , actually hit the Dark Lord; the situation would deteriorate completely and they would all end up dead no matter what he did. 

Several things happened all at once. 

Vader released a truly terrifying snarl and grabbed Luke roughly by the arm; yanking the boy around and behind him in a swirl of movement; shielding the boy easily with his massive frame. The Dark Lord’s lightsaber seemingly appeared in his hand and ignited; incredibly loud in the frozen stillness. The snap-hiss and steady hum of the glowing beam giving voice to the towering rage radiating from the Dark Lord; he leveled the blade at the former princess. 

Far slower than Vader, Leia had let out a soft noise of horror and was beginning to point her weapon away from Luke but her noise escalated to a sharp cry of pain as the blaster in her hand was torn from her grip, ripped out of her fingers so violently she felt the forefinger of her right hand dislocate with a sickening crack. The weapon then crumpled up like a wad of flimsi with a high-pitched shriek of deforming durasteel and there was a muffled explosion as the powercell burst. The blackened ball of metal landed on the ground and rolled to a stop next to Leia’s white boot. 

“I am weary of this!!” The Sith thundered so viciously all present shuddered involuntarily from the barely leashed violence and wrath contained in the man. “Take the slaves and get out of my sight, Rebels, before I lose my patience entirely and simply cut you all down; these tedious negotiations be damned!” 

There were multiple snapping noises trailed by the harsh screech of more shredding metal. Gasps of shock and a renewed wave of terror filled the roiling currents of the Force and Luke braced himself against the torrent. He hastily withdrew from the Force; he couldn’t afford to be distracted now! The youth craned his neck to see that the binders on every single captive slave had all simultaneously been torn apart. He winced inwardly and told himself that it was better Vader vented and destroyed the cuffs instead of bodies. 

The newly unbound slaves looked uncertain, lost and far too fearful to move; swapping glances as they rubbed their wrists. Luke felt Vader’s temper spike. 

_I need to get things moving fast or Vader will make good on this threat!_ He thought frantically. 

He pulled away from the Sith; instantly aware how the Dark Lord noticed his movement and the man’s entire, nearly overwhelming attention latched onto him; watching him with such intensity Luke shivered. If he squinted, he was sure those immense black tendrils lashing about Vader would manifest in the corporal world. With how they circled him, so ferociously protective and so darkly possessive, Luke wondered how he was even able to move at all. It left him inwardly staggered that no one else but he could feel them—they were so potent and solid against him! 

Determination driving him, Luke trotted swiftly over to the slaves; reaching for the nearest sitting alien and pulling the Mon Calamari up, carefully avoiding the nasty wound in his arm. “C’mon, get up.” He urged gently but firmly. Once the Mon Calamari was on his feet, he let go and stepped across to the next one, a Pantoran woman; he helped her rise as well, steadying her when she swayed before turning to the Twi‘lek man beside her and offering his hands. “You’re all free to go, just go over to the Princess; she and the Captain will get you out of here.” He coaxed, smiling encouragingly. “Just hang in there a little more, you’re almost free. I know you can do it…” 

Soon, Luke had all of the slaves up and he quickly herded the motley gaggle over to Leia and Han. 

All the while, Luke could feel the intense regard of the Dark Lord. From a quick glance, he saw that Vader was staring at him, even with the infamous helmet concealing his face; Luke simply knew the man was riveted on him. The Sith stood motionless, the crimson blade still ignited but, fortunately, the tip was pointing to the ground now. 

He was poised, ready to act at the slightest provocation, Luke knew. 

He would give the man none. 

When he reached his friends, he peered at Leia with concern. The Princess was discreetly cradling her hand and her mouth was set in a line of suppressed pain; the glimpse Luke managed before she covered her hand revealed that her forefinger had swollen. “How bad is it? There’s a medic here, maybe I could—” 

“No, Luke,” she shook her head. “There’s a medical kit in the Falcon, I’ll get it treated there. Besides, I doubt Vader would allow it and the sooner we left, the better. I don’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep his temper under control…” she paused and glanced from the Sith to Luke, very troubled and immensely bewildered. “In fact, I’ve never seen him practice so much restraint before.” 

Luke could only offer a shrug. “I don’t know why either; I’m just making the most of it.” He let his gaze rove the ring of faces. “Now, get going.” 

“Wait, what about you?” The Mon Calamari he had helped first asked suddenly. “Can’t you escape with us? Surely, with all of us free we can do _something_ for you!” 

There was a murmur of agreement among the slaves, several of them crowding around Luke. 

“You’ve done so much for us!” The Pantoran woman protested quietly but with startling vehemence, her muted cry echoed by several others. 

“We can still fight!” A Zabrak man snarled lowly. 

“If you want to do something for me; don’t make any plans, don’t try to help me,” Luke said firmly but kindly, lightly resting his hand on the shoulder of the Zabrak and squeezing reassuringly. He jerked his head behind him. “It’s too late and I don’t know if the Dark Lord will give any more chances. Can’t you tell how mad he is already?” 

“But to just leave you behind?! To someone like him!” A Twi’lek exclaimed. 

“I have a far better chance at survival than the rest of you, at the moment,” Luke told them earnestly. “It’s pretty clear Vader doesn’t want me dead right now. I can tell it’s the exact opposite for all of you. So, promise me you’ll all walk away and not look back, okay? Get to the captain’s ship and fly out of here.” 

The slaves looked mutinous and Luke felt a crooked smile twist his lips. _Wonderful time for them to practice their newfound freedom!_ He mused wryly to himself before continuing. “It’s all I ask; consider whatever you feel you owe me paid if you do this one thing for me.” He offered, meeting the eyes of each slave. 

Grudgingly, they each began to acquiesce. The Zabrak was the last and he gave only the barest grunt of acceptance. 

Nodding in satisfaction, Luke started to withdraw but was stopped when Leia matched him step for step. 

“Luke…” Leia started, her voice hardly above a whisper. “Can’t you think of another way?” 

“This is the only way, Leia. And the best way.” Luke closed his eyes briefly before fixing his gaze on the silent Corellian. “I hope you’ve got enough space, Han.” 

“Going to be a bit of a tight fit,” Han said flippantly but Luke could see the tautness in his stance and sense the tangle of rage and refusal in the smuggler. “But don’t worry, Kid, they’ll fit.” 

“Thanks!” Luke grinned at him broadly. “That’s another one I owe you.” 

Han shot a glance over the youth’s shoulder. “Nah, I think we’re more than even, kid.” 

Luke turned to look behind him and swallowed sharply. 

He was out of time. 

Vader watched very closely; a large part of him wishing the rebels would make an attempt of dragging his son away. It would give him all the reason he needed to unleash the fury he still felt over the Princess and her recklessness. How _dare_ she put his son in danger! And the foolish boy, leaping in front of him like that! His son’s lack of self-preservation needed to be addressed as well; the child had many weaknesses that had to be removed. Luke not only cared too much for other, lesser beings too greatly but obviously cared too little about himself. 

His son would not die for the sake of others. 

He would not lose the boy now that he had found him. 

Vader would not have it. 

To his surprise and slight amusement, the slaves seemed to be the ones attempting to take his son away and not the rebels. It was both amazing and fascinating to witness how much loyalty and devotion they were displaying for his boy. Fortunately for them, his son interfered quickly and dissuaded them with that so familiar gentle but unbending determination. The boy was as much his mother’s son as he was his father’s son. 

And this only made Vader want him back where he belonged. 

At his side. 

Seeing that his son was focused solely on him, he commanded ominously. “Finish this now. Or I will.” 

The youth turned swiftly to look at them and said loudly. “You heard him.” Nodding and flashing a last brilliant smile at them, Luke began to walk backwards. “Get out of here!” he called, finally coming to a stop when he was beside Vader again. 

The instant the boy was in reach, Vader’s gloved hand came to grip on Luke’s shoulder tightly; heavy and binding. 

There was a single breathless moment where Vader sensed the nearly overwhelming desire to revolt, coupled with the fierce wish to aid, to revel in the freedom they had believed forever lost… But he felt his son straighten, clearly also feeling what he had felt in the Force. He could not see the boy’s expression but this swell retreated, ebbing and vanishing under the steady gaze of his son. The rebels and the slaves all turned, nearly in unison, and began to move away at a brisk pace. 

All except for the little Astromech. 

The droid remained where it stood; staring fixedly at Luke. 

“Go on, Artoo,” Luke urged. “You’re getting left behind.” 

Artoo only swiveled his dome to glance at the dwindling forms before swinging around to lock onto his young master again. It finally began moving; rolling towards Luke instead of the retreating throng, beeping agitatedly. 

“ _No_ , Artoo!” Luke barked, his tone once more that unyielding durasteel; he raised a hand and pointed. “My terms include you too. Plus, they need your help with the ship, remember what Threepio said about her? There’s got to be stuff only you can tell them that needs to be fixed so all of you can get off Cymoon One. You can’t stay with me! _Go with them_ ; that’s a direct order.” 

Artoo paused, its lone eye flipping through its entire spectrum of colors before it gave a pitiful wail and rocked on its stabilizers. 

“I know, buddy,” Luke gave the little droid a rueful but affectionate smile, “but you know what’s really important right now; you always have. Do the right thing.” 

With a final broken whistle, the Astromech wheeled around sharply and sped away. 

Luke stared after his little droid then let his eyes rest on the small troupe; waiting until the figures had disappeared beyond the field that marked the boundary of the compound. He released a soft, slow breath. _Almost there,_ he told himself. 

Now all that was left was making sure they got off Cymoon One and out of the system safely. 

“You garner great loyalty very easily, young one. It is a very good trait to have; it is wise for you to hone such a talent and nurture what connections you create.” 

“They owe me nothing!” Luke hissed, spearing the Dark Lord with a glare. “I chose to help them because I could. It was my choice so the only person who owes me anything is myself.” 

“As you say,” Vader conceded readily; his foul mood lightening quickly with the boy once more by his side. _You have so much to learn, my son,_ he mused. _I look forward to teaching you all of what you need to know and so much more._

The Sith turned and regarded the Imperials arrayed around them. “Overseer,” he rumbled, willing his voice to carry. “Inform my shuttle to prepare for my arrival; I wish to leave the instant I reach my ship. I will depart for the _Adjudicator_ to ensure this matter is resolved properly, however, I will return and we will discuss at length what happened today.” 

Aggadeen nodded vigorously. “Yes, My Lord. We will await your return. I will restore the Factory to its pristine condition and guarantee that production is restarted and will be at 100% output before your return.” 

“See to it.” Vader looked down to the youth next to him. “We will observe the freighter’s jump to hyperspace from the bridge of the _Adjudicator_. So you may see for yourself that I have indeed fulfilled all of my terms in our agreement.” 

Luke nodded curtly and almost absently fell in step beside Vader when the Dark Lord headed for the transport speeder they had taken. He might have balked at his easy acceptance of this slowly growing habit but his mind was too focused on his friends and the slaves. 

They were nearly safe. Nothing else mattered but them right now. 

Luke fervently hoped Chewie, who was the most level-headed of their little band, kept Han and Leia—especially Leia—from acting rashly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Thank you very much for the Kudos, the Subscription, the Bookmarks and, especially, the Reviews. As always, please don't hesitate to leave comments and critique, I welcome any sort of feedback!


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader and Luke arrive on the _Adjudicator_ , Luke discovers facets of the Dark Lord few know and, given who his friends are, things go as well as expected.
> 
> \------------
> 
> {"Words."} - Conversation said over the comlink  
> : _Words_ : - Conversation via the Force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the longest chapter of this little story so far!I hope that the length helps make up for the long wait. I didn’t just encode but added about 4k worth of words. There’s a good reason for it too. :) And you’ll all find out why at the end of the chapter.  
> So, without further delay, happy reading!

The journey to the landing bay of the Weapons Factory was done in silence. 

Like before, Vader flew fast and they arrived within minutes. The Sith expertly parked the transport speeder at the perfect distance from his ship and they switched over to the shuttle already idling on the platform with little ceremony. The medic was curtly dismissed when they exited the transport speeder; Luke felt a corner of his mouth twitch at the man’s unrestrained relief and caught a last glimpse of the Imperial as he scurried back into the building. 

Once inside, Vader led the way to the main cabin and a small row of seats; he gestured for Luke to take the one furthest from the door panel; although, as a sort of consolation, Luke noted he was next to the viewport. Once he was seated, Vader sat down next to him, caging him in. Strangely, Luke found this only mildly discomforting; he had already been carried by the man. Sitting side by side was hardly a cause for alarm. 

Today has been beyond weird, Luke concluded wryly. 

They had just settled and finished strapping themselves securely when the shuttle shook slightly and rose. 

Luke wondered if Vader would begin his interrogation now but was pleasantly surprised when the relaxed hush they were sharing was only briefly broken when Vader opened his comlink and relayed his orders to the Captain of the _Adjudicator_. The youth couldn’t muster the interest, let alone the effort to listen to what the Sith was saying; Vader was surprisingly adept at modulating his voice so it was as loud or as soft as he wanted. He did keep alert for any word about the Falcon, however. 

There was none; Luke felt his relief rise slightly. Nevertheless, he remained wary and ready for any possible complications that could arise. He was talking about Han and Leia after all. Who knew what those two could suddenly decide to do? 

Besides his brusque communiqué with his subordinates, Vader said nothing else so he and Luke exchanged no words at all throughout the short flight of the shuttle to the Star Destroyer in orbit. 

Luke was very grateful for this reprieve. He wouldn’t know what to talk about with Darth Vader, anyway… actually, did Vader even care about small talk? He had been half-expecting the Sith to begin grilling him but the man had been (characteristically) quiet. Luke had heard all sorts of stories about Darth Vader, of his brilliant tactical mind and unmatched battle prowess, of his cruelty and ruthlessness, and of his complete devotion to the Empire and the Emperor. Most of all, they detailed the man’s legendary temper, his lack of emotion, his proclivity towards actions instead of words and his utter unpredictability. 

_The last part’s grossly understated,_ Luke sulked. _He’s not just unpredictable. What he does doesn’t make sense to me at all half the time!_

And, given the manner the man interacted with him so far, Luke had long decided that evidently the traits the stories said about Darth Vader didn’t apply to Vader when the Dark Lord was dealing with Luke Skywalker. 

_And I still have no idea why it’s like that too!_ the youth groused, rubbing his temples where a migraine was slowly building. It had been an incredibly long day. _It isn’t over yet, Skywalker!_ He berated himself. _Stick all of that back in its corner for now and handle this problem first. It’s a lot easier to solve, if you ask me!_

His friends were still on Cymoon One, likely settling their many passengers as best they could in the small freighter and installing any stop-gap mechanical solutions they had to make so the Falcon could actually fly out of Cymoon One. Threepio’s last report had not been very reassuring, if Luke remembered correctly. In fact, according to the Protocol droid, the locals had been taking the Millennium Falcon apart. 

Listening with keen interest to the multitude of thoughts practically shouted at him, Vader wondered idly how his son would react if he ever learned that all of his worries and ruminations were all being broadcasted to him. _He would likely react poorly and end up projecting even more because of his agitation,_ The Dark Lord smirked. _I think I will not tell him for now; this is far too entertaining._

So lost in his thoughts, Luke only realized they had docked on the Star Destroyer when the Dark Lord unstrapped himself, rose fluidly and strode out of the cabin; not a single verbal order for him to follow. Not that Vader needed to give one; the youth quickly unbuckled his own harness and stood when he saw Vader leaving, jogging after him. Luke was eager to get to the bridge; he needed to see the Falcon with his own eyes to lay the lingering fears he had to rest. However, Luke faltered when they reached the ramp and saw what was waiting outside of the shuttle. 

An entire company of Stormtroopers and their officers stood arrayed in perfect rows. 

At Vader’s appearance, they all saluted in perfect unison; the clatter of armor at their united movement resounding like thunder rolling across the sky and reverberated in the cavern of the Star Destroyer’s vast hanger. Luke was impressed in spite of himself. His gaze landed on the insignia emblazoned on their shoulders. 

A very recognizable designation. 

The Elite of the Empire’s Elite. The 501st Legion. 

Vader’s Fist. 

Instantly, Luke saw—and, in the Force, felt—the distinction. Even the single action of performing that salute was telling: the poise and stance of these Imperials was vastly different. These men knew how to fight and very well. They certainly lived up to the name and reputation, the youth mulled this over, staring at them; seeing more than incredible discipline. _It’s a good thing we didn’t run into them on the moon,_ he thought with no small amount of relief. 

These men… and _women_? Luke felt a surge of surprise wash over him as he sensed not only men but women among these troops. And not only human females but _aliens_ too? Fascinated, he reached deeper into the Force, observing the subtle variances in their dim Presences within the fabric of the Force itself—He suppressed an annoyed huff when he was nearly blinded by the black sun that was Darth Vader; the Sith was impossible to ignore when he touched the Force like this… Determinedly, he pushed back. 

Luke thought he saw that dark Supernova hum with amusement before he pursed his lips in concentration and… _there_! 

Yes, he had been right. There were indeed Aliens among the Human soldiers; it was very easy to tell them apart when he was touching the Force. However, his precarious hold slipped when he saw the actual number… this was unheard of! The Empire’s Anti-Speciesism policy had been one of the Rebel Alliance’s rallying points; to discover that Vader had so obviously disregarded this prominent flaw of an Imperial Officer was both a shock and a pleasure. Luke felt a flare of grudging respect for the man; Darth Vader was proving to be more of an enigma the more he learned about him… 

He nearly missed the faintest twitch of Vader’s helmet in his direction. And the dark flash of pleasure and smugness that exuded from the man before it was concealed. If Luke was surer of his control, he would insist Darth Vader was _preening_. 

Vader, who had halted when Luke had, resumed walking. The youth quickly moved to join him, catching up to the Sith halfway down the ramp; he was not going to be left behind to walk through this alone! 

Vader smoothly shifted when Luke came close, letting the youth take the position on the man’s right side. Immersed as he was in the Force, Luke easily caught the ripple of shock; tightly leashed but no less heavy, erupt from the gathered troopers. Unadulterated astonishment and curiosity. He only pondered this for a couple of seconds as they reached the deck and the highest Officer stepped out of formation to meet them. Luke peered at him and recognized him as a captain. 

“Welcome back, My Lord.” The officer said briskly; Luke noticed how young he sounded but there was no fear or uncertainty in him. If he was to make a guess, this Imperial was only a few years older than himself. 

“Captain Vax,” Vader acknowledged. 

_So this was the guy who was supposed to take custody of me,_ Luke mused, his curiosity had already been piqued but now it spiked. _I shouldn’t underestimate him then even if he’s as young as I bet he is._

“Are we to execute the orders we received from Cymoon One, My Lord?” The young man’s gaze flicked to rest on Luke momentarily; he knew this even if he couldn’t see the man’s eyes. 

“No,” Vader said. “Belay any orders you have received from the Factory Moon. I have new orders; command the unit to attend to what tasks which need to be completed. However, you and the first platoon are to await me in my private quarters. While you are waiting, have the quarters directly adjacent to mine made ready for an occupant. Utilize Protocol 8 when you oversee all the preparations.” 

“It will be done, My Lord.” The man saluted again and withdrew swiftly. Again, Luke felt a gentle ripple of renewed shock and interest but, outwardly, there was no trace of these swirling emotions. 

A clear sign of Vader’s regard, Luke observed how the Dark Lord gave the slightest of nods and waited for the Captain to return to his position before striding off once more. Luke found himself slightly off-balance; this was so vastly different from how the Sith had dealt with the Imperials on the Factory Moon. Luke had little chance to analyze these new facets revolving around Darth Vader as he found himself scrambling so as not to be left behind. He was also painfully aware of the intense scrutiny of the troopers as he passed them; if he had not been Force-sensitive, Luke suspected he wouldn’t have noticed at all. Unlike their counterparts on Cymoon One, these Imperials effortlessly restrained themselves. 

Evidently sensing that his steps were too long, the Dark Lord slowed enough for Luke to slot himself back by the man’s side. Luke wondered if Vader was consciously doing this… and why he was. He shied away from the implications of this action and what the position he was in entailed. But, this revelation still came; Vader was according him the right to walk beside him. 

As an _equal_. 

A sudden thought surfaced; who else had the Dark Lord granted this rare privilege? He had a nagging suspicion that aside from the Emperor, there were very few who had earned this right. So, why grant it to him? In his eyes, Luke had done nothing to merit this honor. Was it because of his Force potential? Or, probably, because of his father? Luke guessed it had to be the latter. It didn’t take a genius to realize that there was a very important connection between Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader. This missing link was very significant too; the youth knew. Discovering exactly what that connection was would be pivotal in unraveling the mystery of why Darth Vader was acting the way he did when it concerned him. The youth mulled over all of this as they traversed the gleaming corridors of the majestic ship in that nearly companionable silence. Luke was a little startled they arrived at the bridge without encountering anyone until he surmised the Imperials were all already at their stations. 

The instant the unlikely pair slipped through the heavy durasteel double doors, however, Luke missed the emptiness of the hallways. A sharp-faced man dressed in the standard Imperial uniform and wearing an officer’s bar designating himself as the Captain saluted when Vader neared him. His eyes skimmed over Luke for only the briefest of moments before the Imperial focused entirely on the Dark Lord. 

“Four squadrons of the _Adjudicator’s_ complement of TIE Fighters and TIE Interceptors are deployed and in position as per your orders, My Lord. Also, the freighter has just been sighted making for orbit, according to the Cymoon One personnel. It will be within visual range shortly.” 

“Good, Captain Kronn. Monitor the ship but do not hinder its progress as long as its trajectory leads it out of this system. However, if it makes any attempt to veer off or even return to the Factory Moon. Destroy it.” 

“Understood, Lord Vader.” 

Vader continued down the aisle and Luke had no choice but to follow once more; he grit his teeth against the uncomfortable sensation of so many penetrating eyes on him as he trailed in the Dark Lord’s impressive wake. Soon, he found himself by the central viewport and again saw how Vader shifted so he could move to stand beside the man in front of the transparisteel. 

With barely a pause, Luke stepped into this spot; sensing more than hearing the indrawn gasps of disbelief racing through the bridge crew. He barely resisted the urge to look back and see why. He almost reached out with the Force but figured he’d only feel their astonishment. And, he didn’t need the Force to tell him that! Discarding the Imperials—they weren’t important right now!—he stared out, letting the sea of glittering stars soothe him if only for a moment. Already he was searching… he didn’t need to hear the Captain’s voice declaring the coordinates of the _Millennium Falcon_ because Luke had long found her. 

Silently, he watched as the silvery dot slowly grew, becoming the achingly familiar sight of the old freighter. Luke felt his mouth quirk; she really was unimpressive when you saw her. Dull and dented. But, as he continued to gaze at the _Millennium Falcon_ , letting the fire of the stars reflect on her battered hull; he imagined he saw a different glow. 

Without thinking, so naturally, he reached into the Force and touched that radiance… 

— _fiercejoyFREEsafefinallysafecan’tbelievewemadeitI’MFREETHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU_ — 

Luke grinned so broadly he felt his cheeks ache. He was pulling away from this nimbus of joy when he was blindsided with an onrush of new, different emotions. 

— _helplessangerfurydamnmitkidyourecklesslittleidiotOHLUKELUKELUKEHE’LLKILLYOU **HATEYOUVADERTOOKEVERYTHINGHATEI’LLKILL**_ — 

The black maelstrom of rage and loathing vanished so abruptly Luke staggered and would have fallen if he was not caught up in an all-too-familiar durasteel hold. There was a heavy shroud wrapping around him and cutting him off from the Force; shielding him from that painful, poisonous vortex he had nearly drowned in. Luke shuddered involuntarily and leaned into the embrace; unconsciously seeking comfort. He also sunk willingly into the icy safety of this invisible but tangible blanket. A part of him felt like a small child hiding under the covers. 

_That was_ … The youth swallowed shallowly. 

“Commander Organa certainly has very potent emotions. If she was a Force-sensitive, she would be the ideal candidate for a Sith,” Vader noted so blandly Luke could only gape up at him. 

“You do realize it’s all directed at you, right?” 

“Her anger and hate only make me more powerful since she cannot use these emotions in the way I can. Hate and anger have many uses in the Force; in the dark side.” 

“I’ve… never heard this before,” Luke said slowly. 

“Yes, clearly, you have been taught nothing.” Vader’s pleasure over this was impossible to deny. “That is good; you will not have to unlearn any bad habits.” 

“Right.” Luke muttered and belatedly realized the Dark Lord was still holding him close, cradling him against his huge frame. The armor was hard, warm and comforting. His cheeks burned and he straightened, tentatively pulling away. Vader’s grip did not loosen. He tugged again, lightly, before murmuring. “…I’m fine, I can stand on my own; you can let go now.” 

“I advise you teach yourself better control before you delve too deeply into the Force, young one. Your great affinity will be more dangerous than beneficial to you if you cannot control it properly.” 

“Right, gotcha,” Luke muttered. “…so?” Slowly, he made another attempt to pull out of the embrace, felt the arms tighten momentarily, before finally releasing him. He refused to admit to the flare of dismay he felt at the loss of contact with Vader. Feeling the heat on his cheeks intensify, Luke took a long step away and looked everywhere but the Dark Lord. 

Incidentally, his eyes landed on the Imperials. 

_Wow, looks like I just broke this bridge crew… then again, who wouldn’t be in shock? From the way we looked, Vader was pretty much… hugging me. Oh _Stars_ ¸ I’m beginning to see why they’re reeling._ Luke noted the gawking stares and swiftly, willfully retreated from that memory. A part of him clung to the last vestiges of the sensations, however. No matter how bizarre, how surreal this hug had been… it had felt _good_. 

“Anyway,” Luke plowed forward. “I’ll be more careful next time. Thanks for catching me.” 

“Indeed.” Vader’s tone was droll and downright dubious. 

Luke shot him a glare, once more shoving away the renewed shock radiating from all around them. Didn’t these Imperials have work to do? Why were they paying so much attention to what the two of them were doing, anyway? The Dark Lord seemed to snort but Luke thought he sensed this more than heard the noise. 

“This discussion will be for another time,” The Sith declared. “It appears your friends are nearing the hyperspace jump point. Now, we will see if they will make the jump or they will turn around and your efforts to save them and those slaves will amount to nothing.” 

“You would really love it if they did that, won’t you?!” Luke snapped with a touch of anger lining his voice. 

“I have been very clear as to how I regard your companions, young one. They are rebels and dissidents; the galaxy would be far better without them.” 

“You do realize that negates our deal,” Luke pointed out slyly. 

“Only partially, I have fulfilled majority of my terms; I would not be at fault that I was unable to complete the last prerequisite if your friends’ mercurial nature directs them to destroy themselves. I would still be allotted a certain level of compensation as I have done all I am capable of in meeting our agreed terms. That would only be fair, do you not think?” 

“So, basically, you want to renegotiate the deal if my friends don’t just leave and get killed because of it?” 

“It is only appropriate. Given your talent in formulating the details of such terms; I imagine it would prove to be an interesting revision.” 

Luke snorted, smirking a little. “I’d still squeeze you better than a Jawa would ever dare try.” 

Instantly, Luke froze as Vader’s invisible but weighty gaze fell and focused on him. “Better than a Jawa?” was the soft, silky reply. “Interesting analogy. You are from Tatooine, I presume?” 

Luke lifted his chin in defiance. “Raised there, yes.” 

“ _Hmm_.” The Dark Lord straightened, almost seemed to loom over him and there was an inexplicable surge in the Force, vast and powerful. Luke only caught a glimpse of the black fury the Dark Lord was capable of before it was once more leashed and locked away from him. “That explains your expertise; Hutt education does lean heavily towards the particulars of business transactions after all. Among other things.” 

Luke felt a frown creep onto his face; there were undercurrents in that line he could almost perceive— 

“The freighter has reached the point where it may make an unhindered hyperspace jump as well as had ample time to plot out such a course, My Lord. It should make a jump in the next fifteen seconds or less.” Captain Kronn’s cool voice snapped Luke back to the present and he instantly sought out the speck he knew would be the _Millennium Falcon_. “Allot them thirty seconds. If they have not done so; _encourage them_.” 

If Luke wasn’t so focused in watching the _Millennium Falcon_ ; he would have speared Vader with a withering look and shot off a particularly barbed retort he had on his tongue. The man was far worse than even a Hutt was when it came to holding grudges. He never let up! However, his entire being was riveted on the small freighter, he could see just the faintest glimmer of the golden starflame reflecting on her battered durasteel hull before the ship seemed to stretch then the _Millennium Falcon_ was _gone_. 

“The freighter has successfully made its hyperspace jump.” Captain Kronn proclaimed needlessly. 

Looking fixedly at the spot where the Millennium Falcon had been only seconds ago, Luke slowly inhaled then exhaled. 

His friends were finally _safe_. And the slaves were _free_. 

He had done it. 

His entire body seem to sag; all the strength leaving him as the realization and relief of this registered. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Vader reach out to steady him but froze when Luke caught himself; his hands gripping the frame of the viewport for support. 

It was all over. 

He had no regrets. 

“Are you satisfied?” 

“Yes.” Luke murmured. 

Vader had kept his word and fulfilled his end of the deal. 

Luke knew it was now his turn. 

He shifted and tilted his head up to meet the helmeted gaze he could feel boring into him. “What do you want to know?” he offered simply. 

The Dark Lord leaned forward, almost trapping him against the viewport. That maelstrom of countless emotions rising around them like a Tatooine sandstorm— 

“Lord Vader.” 

The Dark Lord only deigned to give Captain Kronn a stare over his shoulder; his irate bass rolling over the bridge. “ _Yes_ , Captain?” he growled. 

Luke couldn’t see but he heard the man swallow audibly. “Scans have just discovered that there is an escape pod left behind by the freighter.” 

“Lifeforms?” 

“None, My Lord. Shall I have it destroyed?” 

“No.” Vader’s helmet shifted to look down at the youth. “Retrieve it.” 

Luke suddenly, inexplicably, had a very bad feeling about this. 

.:. [ .: / .:. | .:. \ :. ] .:. 

Once more, Luke found himself next to Vader where the Dark Lord stood beside a different, but no less massive, viewport. 

They had relocated to a very opulent conference room somewhere on the capital ship; Luke had been too busy keeping in step with Vader and mulling over the escape pod to track their winding course through the Star Destroyer. Normally, he would have been fascinated by the riveting spectacle of stars he could see so clearly outside the transparisteel but he was just too agitated. Vader had suggested he sit and Luke had been tempted at first; the high-backed, richly upholstered black chairs were evidently built for comfort and he was tired but when he noticed that the Sith had chosen to remain standing; he had decided he may as well do the same. 

It was a good thing too, Luke realized; because he saw just how he, for some reason, gravitated to the Dark Lord. His wish to be close was equal to Vader’s clear desire to keep him close. Why was it like that? 

Luke didn’t linger over this revelation, though, as the matter of the escape pod became his sole concern. He did, however, assure himself he was going to tackle the puzzle of Darth Vader when this problem was handled. His bad feeling hadn’t abated in the slightest. He was constantly shifting where he stood; a slowly growing restlessness overtaking him as they waited for the return of the shuttle dispatched to retrieve the escape pod. 

Vader discreetly watched his son; finding amusement in the boy’s impatience. Fleetingly, he recalled how much _he_ had hated waiting as well. Particularly, Vader was entirely absorbed by his boy’s very intriguing thoughts. So his son felt the connection between them and while Luke could not recognize the bond for what it was; he instinctively trusted the link. Vader felt that now familiar onrush of pride and pleasure race along his veins. His son was very perceptive and so attuned to the Force even with practically no training; Vader had no doubt his son easily matched him in power even at the height of his strength. When he had still been whole. 

Before Mustafar. 

The discovery of Luke Skywalker had awoken something in him. The fire and will Vader had long believed extinguished and broken was reignited into a magnificent blaze and reforged into a new ferocious determination; all aimed at a single ambition. He would have his son; reclaim the child that was stolen from him. Seeing Sidious brought low and made to suffer for his treachery was only secondary to this desire. 

Already, his mind was forming several plots and strategies that would bring this about. 

“Why can’t we go to the hanger and wait there?” Luke suggested, breaking into the Sith’s musings. His boy was eying him with a small furrow on his brow, his blue eyes—Vader was certain they had to be. They could not be any other color—seemed to glow with understanding and suspicion as though he could see the schemes the Dark Lord was formulating. 

Vader felt his mouth upturn into a smile. _Clever child, very little slips past you,_ he praised silently, his smile widening as the boy’s eyes now flashed in puzzlement. He saw how his son easily and keenly felt his good mood and soundless acclaim. “Security reasons,” he explained smoothly. “In the event the escape pod is actually a last minute present from your friends. I would not find it beyond the Princess’ purview to leave a parting gift of a bomb—several of them, in fact. It is a favored tactic of rebels after all.” 

Luke scowled but kept quiet. Vader had a valid point. 

“Rest assured,” intoned the Dark Lord, “if the escape pod is rigged; we will know before it has even entered the hanger bay of this ship.” 

“Great,” Luke muttered, deciding he should try and distract himself with staring out at the stars and quizzing himself on the names of each cluster of constellations he could see. He wasn’t proving to be very successful and only named three of them before the dilemma of the escape pod rose to the forefront of his mind. _There are no lifeforms, it could just be a dud,_ he assured himself. _With all the bugs the Falcon has, it could have just accidentally triggered. After all, wasn’t it being taken apart back on Cymo—_

{“Lord Vader, the shuttle has returned.”} 

The clipped voice of Captain Kronn erupting over the ship’s internal comm channel caused Luke to jump high in surprise at the abrupt, loud and nearly painfully clear sound. He wasn’t able to stifle the startled gasp he made; was already spinning around and searching for the captain when he realized belatedly it was only the internal comm system. 

Not my fault their stuff is so new and advanced it doesn’t crackle when you switch it on, he griped to himself, crossing his arms over his chest defensively and glowering mightily at Vader when he felt a ripple of amusement echo in the Force. 

Oblivious to the youth’s irritated mortification and the Dark Lord’s mirth, the Imperial relayed his report briskly. {“The shuttle crew have completed full scans on the exterior and interior of the recovered escape pod and can attest that there are no explosives aboard.”} 

“Very well. Have it brought out onto the hanger deck and open it.” 

{“At once, Lord Vader.”} 

Luke fiddled impatiently with the hem of his yellow jacket as the minutes crawled by. He wondered briefly if the escape pod exploded, would they feel the blast in this room? 

{“My Lord, we have succeeded in prying open the hatch of the escape pod.”} 

“What was in the escape pod, Captain?” 

There was a pause, then: {“A droid, My Lord.”} 

Luke straightened, releasing the corner of his jacket he had been twisting between his fingers. _**Oh, no**_ … he thought in dawning horror and dismay. 

“A blue and white Astromech droid?” 

{“…Yes, Lord Vader.”} The Captain sounded shocked that the Dark Lord knew. 

Luke wanted to bury his head in his hands. He wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or scream. _Damnit, Artoo!_ He groaned internally. _I was so worried Han or Leia would do something stupid and figured Chewie could stop them but I didn’t expect you to do something like this… no, **wait** , what am I saying?! I shouldn’t be surprised at all! Of course, this is **exactly** what Artoo would do!_

“Tell whoever is in charge to bring the droid to this conference room; inform the unit its master is here to head off any refusal to obey on the part of the droid.” 

{“Understood, My Lord.”} 

Vader glanced to Luke who had slouched against the viewport, scowling. “This is an interesting turn of events.” 

Luke expelled his breath loudly and threw up his hands in evident frustration. “I should have seen this coming! Artoo gave up way too easily back on Cymoon One!” 

“You appear to be well-acquainted with that droid and its quirks. How long have you had it with you?” 

“Several months, I think about three to four,” Luke answered absently, beginning to pace as his restlessness returned, now intermingled with annoyance. 

“Is this the same with the Protocol droid?” 

Luke bobbed his head. “Yeah. Threepio and Artoo usually come as a set… actually, I’m glad Threepio didn’t come along with him!” 

“So you only acquired these droids shortly before you joined the Rebellion? Where were they before then?” 

“With Leia, I guess.” Luke shrugged. 

“Why would they be with the former Princess of Alderaan? Did you not have them with you your entire life?” 

Luke aimed a thoughtful glance at him before looking away. “No,” he admitted. “I only got them…” The youth trailed off, part of him unwilling to enlighten the Dark Lord and another part of him unwilling to re-visit those still painful memories. 

“Your side of the deal is yet to be fulfilled, young one,” Vader growled softly. “You will answer all questions I ask about you, remember.” 

“Artoo and his counterpart were the droids carrying the Death Star plans, the ones you were looking for on Tatooine,” Luke explained quickly. “That’s how I got them.” 

“Hmm…” 

Luke turned his head and fixed the Dark Lord with a searching frown. “Why are you so interested in Artoo and Threepio, anyway?” 

“I have a suspicion that I am familiar with both droids.” 

Luke leaned forward eagerly. “Howso?” 

“I believe it is _I_ who has the right to ask questions and not you.” Vader chided the youth mildly but Luke could easily sense the amusement radiating from the man. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke huffed. “Next question, then?” 

“How did you come to Tatooine?” 

Luke blinked, confused. “I’m not sure I understand that question.” 

“I wish to know _everything_ about you, young one. Naturally, I will have you start at the very beginning so we miss nothing. How old were you when you were brought to Tatooine? Or… were you born there?” 

His frown deepened and took a speculative edge; Luke cocked his head to the side. “When I was a baby, practically a newborn, according to Aunt Beru,” he started slowly, sifting through the countless conversations he had had with his Aunt. He let the bittersweet bite of her memory cut into him as he reminisced. 

_Stars_ , he missed her terribly; her gentle voice and her presence. He missed Uncle Owen too but he missed her just a little more. His aunt had been far closer to him than his uncle had ever been; they had shared secrets that Uncle Owen never knew. She had been his mother; so solid and real next to the ghost of a woman who he only knew had brought him into the galaxy and died shortly afterwards. Once again, Luke wished he knew her name; he owed her his life after all and, yet, he didn’t even know her name. 

Whenever he thought of her, this nameless woman who was his mother, Luke felt a roiling tangle of guilt/grief/apology lodge in his chest. But, strangely, he knew she would not blame him for his ignorance and for his attachment to his aunt. Luke always knew that his birth mother would be incredibly happy he had found such love… because she was not around to give it to him. 

Yes, Aunt Beru had been his mother in all things. 

However, Uncle Owen had never bothered to fill the shoes of his dead father. 

Perhaps that was why Luke had always yearned for his father… 

Shaking himself, Luke was startled to find the Dark Lord was silent and—patiently?!—waiting for him. 

Ducking his head to hide his face, Luke cleared his throat loudly, and discreetly wiped the drops of wetness he felt were just beginning to leak from the corners of his eyes with hasty fingers. He continued hurriedly; not wanting to anger the Sith. “Aunt Beru told me I was given to them by a family friend who was close to my father and had been there when my mother died after giving birth to me. She told me I was only a few days old when I was given to them.” 

“Did they ever tell you the name of the person who brought you to them?” 

Luke shook his head. “No, and when I tried asking; my uncle would tell me it wasn’t important and my aunt would give me a very vague answer.” 

“Of course.” Was the very flat rejoinder. 

Lifting his head, Luke stared at the Sith. He hadn’t noticed earlier but there was a thick shroud around the man now—far more impregnable than even the protective veil that Vader had thrown over him when he had been bombarded by Han’s and, especially, Leia’s feelings. For the first time since he had encountered the Dark Lord he felt... _absolutely nothing_ from the man. Luke gazed at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. It felt unreal and, most of all, _wrong_. He could see the man with his eyes, yes, but he could not sense him at all. The abrupt lack of Vader’s presence was very jarring and, Luke admitted to himself secretly, downright alarming. He hadn’t realized how much he had grown used to and even comfortable having that black supernova nearby. He had the sudden, irresistible _need_ to touch Vader because his sight wasn’t enough. Stepping close, Luke reached out and rested just the tips of his fingers on the back of one gloved hand where it gripped the black belt in a near crushing hold. At the feel of synthleather and the familiar solidness of the Sith’s prosthetic, Luke found his voice. “What’s wrong?” he asked breathlessly. 

Vader’s helmet tilted down and Luke knew the man was staring at where Luke’s fingers were touching him. 

“ What’s wrong?” Luke repeated insistently. “What happened? Are you alright?” 

The Dark Lord shifted and Luke now knew the man was staring at his face. 

“It is nothing.” 

“It isn’t ‘nothing’!” Luke snapped persistently. “You just… closed off!” 

At this, the wall between them fell away and Luke was nearly overwhelmed as the sheer Force Presence of Darth Vader flooded back. The youth gasped and reeled, stumbling to grip the viewport frame for support. 

“What did I say about reaching into the Force unless you are better at shielding yourself?” The Dark Lord chided mildly. 

"I bet you did that on purpose!" Luke retorted, his eyes narrowing as he straightened. "In fact, I also bet you did it to avoid answering my question." He countered shrewdly. 

Vader was forestalled in replying to this when the doors leading out of the room parted to reveal a pair of Stormtroopers and an Imperial officer—a sergeant?—standing outside. 

Between the two troopers was a familiar blue-and-white Astromech droid. 

Luke started forward only to be gently held back by a pair of gloved hands suddenly on his shoulders. “Artoo!” he yelled. 

“Leave the droid.” Vader commanded. The men saluted and remained where they were as Artoo trundled inside; the doors closed behind the little droid once he passed the threshold and Luke heard the lock engaged with a low beep. 

Vader dropped his hands from Luke’s shoulders and the boy shot forward, coming to kneel in front of the Astromech. 

“Artoo, when I said do the right thing; it was not to help fix the Falcon _then_ come back to me! That is not the right thing to do!” 

Artoo whistled, unrepentant. 

“Why did I know that would be your answer?” Luke said wryly, resting his hand on the silver dome and patting. 

“An unexpected boon for me.” Came the darkly pleased bass. 

Luke leapt up and wheeled to face the approaching Sith. “What do you mean?!” 

“I will have my answers in regards to the working of the resistance after all. I am certain this R2 unit has much data concerning that organization within its memory banks.” 

“Not so fast, Lord Vader,” Luke instantly stood and moved in front of the Astromech protectively. “Part of my terms included my droids so you can’t touch him!” 

Vader had to laugh; ignoring how the sound tore at his throat. His son was very sharp, indeed. He looked forward to the day when this brilliant child worked with him, all the more when he would be solely devoted to him. 

To his father. 

“Very well,” he conceded. “However, if he is to remain with you; he will accept a restraining bolt. And, as one of _my_ terms state, you will make no attempts to escape my custody. That includes whatever devious plans your little droid may formulate.” 

Artoo bleated out a string of binary that Luke just knew wasn’t very… complimentary. 

“You are as insolent as ever.” Vader rumbled. “If you do not agree with my conditions, I will have you drained of power, shut off _and_ have a restraining bolt attached. It is your choice if you will be activated or not for the duration of your stay.” 

Artoo shrilled. 

“I see you’ve improved your vocabulary for swearwords,” Vader noted dryly. 

Watching in shock, Luke could only gape at the exchange between the little Astromech droid and Dark Lord. _Vader really _does_ know Artoo!_

Artoo warbled and Luke easily heard the amazement in the little droid’s sounds. 

“Yes, I understand you perfectly,” Vader intoned. “Since you have very clearly stated your disagreement, I can simply have you left back on Cymoon One instead; I am not obligated to bring you along with your master.” 

Luke scowled and cut in. “You’re obligated to get him off Cymoon One and out of the system _safely_ so you can’t return him to the Factory Moon. That’s against our terms of agreement!” 

“The droid is safely _off_ Cymoon One at this moment, and it had the free passage I promised. It is not _my_ failing it chose not to make use of it. My obligations in this matter have been already fulfilled. Your exact terms were to allow the Astromech droid to leave Cymoon One and its system unmolested. Which it could have done if the droid did not steal an escape pod and let itself be left behind. You made no specifics as to what happens _after_ the safe passage was given. Nor did you make any addendums in the case of this eventuality. If I wish it; I can simply jettison the droid into the sun of the next system!” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “Oh come on! Now you’re just being nitpicky and petty!” 

Vader straightened to loom over him and, even masked, Luke knew the Sith was staring at him incredulously. “Did you just call _me_ ‘nitpicky’ and ‘ _petty_ ’?” 

“Yeah, I did,” Luke said simply. “You are being that, you know.” 

“If we are enforcing terms, young one,” Vader rumbled, wagging a finger at Luke. “May I remind you of _your_ obligation to ‘treat me with the respect due my station and title’?” 

Luke went quiet. “Fine.” He muttered. Inhaling softly, the youth calmed himself and said in a very polite and deferential tone. “With all due respect, Lord Vader, I must inform you that you are being nitpicky and petty, and that is hardly befitting a man of your station and title.” The boy then fixed him with a solemn stare; there was no hint of insolence or sarcasm in him whatsoever. In fact, there was an unmistakable layer of reprimand that was all too familiar to the Dark Lord. He vividly remembered _her_ using that exact tone on him. Often. “Have I satisfied the terms of our agreement, my Lord?” 

Behind Luke, Artoo chortled. 

Within his mask, Vader gawked openly in disbelief; his anger and pride warring with his amusement and pleasure for dominance. His son was incredibly infuriating. And yet, simultaneously amusing and endearing. He wanted to punish the boy for his impertinence but at the same instance… That reckless boldness was unquestionably from him but that cool, fine wit was definitely all hers. 

Choosing the safer course, Vader whirled and leveled the long black-gloved finger at the still laughing droid. “You have only two options, droid: accept the restraining bolt or I will have you jettisoned once the _Adjudicator_ enters the nearest system outside Cymoon One. And, if I am feeling _petty_ ,” he added dryly, sending his son a significant glance. “I will jettison you into the next system’s sun.” 

The little droid blew a raspberry… that ended in a plaintive noise before a small, very begrudging bleep. 

“Good.” Vader strode over to the astromech, and paused when his son hastily placed himself between them again. “The droid has agreed to my terms, young one.” 

“Artoo should learn to be more specific and ask for details of what you’re going to do to him before he agrees to anything next time,” Luke declared, glowering at the Dark Lord. “What will the restraining bolt do to him? I’m not letting you put it on him until I know exactly what it does!” 

_Truly a clever, perceptive child,_ Vader thought with renewed amusement and pride. Aloud, he explained coolly. “It will ensure the droid does not attempt to access any part of the _Adjudicator’s_ systems unless I personally grant it permission. Additionally, if it attempts to enter any of the restricted areas of this ship; the restraining bolt will freeze all of the droid’s motor functions and alert me.” 

“It won’t hurt him, right?” Luke asked quietly, worry evident in his voice. 

“It will not cause it permanent damage—” 

“What about ‘temporary’ damage?” Luke interjected shrewdly, unfazed by the glare he felt directed at him. 

Despite his annoyance for the interruption, Vader was enjoying this exchange immensely. “The droid _may_ suffer temporary damage if it persists in fighting the restraining bolt while it is performing any of its functions—in short, it ignores the warnings the restraining bolt will transmit to it. Ultimately, the device will simply override all of its operating systems and force a shutdown if it does not relent after a certain point. The droid will require my personal access code to be reactivated.” 

Luke winced and looked over his shoulder. “You got all of that, Artoo?” 

The little Astromech twittered, Luke missing the touch of smugness coating the binary. Concealed by his mask, Vader loosened his control enough to roll his eyes and huff softly in exasperation; knowing exactly what sounds his vocoder would catch and what would be overlooked. Artoo clearly did not know who it was exactly he was dealing with. He looked forward to seeing the little droid realize just what kind of capabilities the restraining bolt Vader was fitting him with possessed. He would wager the Astromech would be finding this out firsthand. He already knew he would likely have to manually reactivate the little unit in the coming days. Likely more than once too. 

_I look forward to it,_ he thought with relish. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, alright?” Luke was lecturing sternly, correctly guessing what the little droid had said. “Don’t be reckless… well, any more than you were! Besides, even if you get that thing off somehow; I can’t leave with you. I gave my word.” 

Artoo grumbled long and low. Vader gave another little snort at the diatribe directed at him and the gentle scolding aimed at his son. 

“I’m sorry about all of this,” Luke turned and patted the dome. “You really shouldn’t have let yourself get left behind; look what you got yourself into now?” 

Kneeling back down, the youth smiled suddenly, sweetly. He threw his arms around the little barrel-shaped droid and hugged the R2 unit tightly. “Thanks, buddy!” He whispered but Vader heard this heartfelt murmur far too clearly. 

Watching this, the Dark Lord felt his chest tighten again with too many emotions he could not begin to identify or let alone separate. 

He had gone through more emotions in the last hour than he had felt in the last couple of decades; his fists clenched convulsively. He needed time to sort them and regain control. Most of all, he needed to set his plans in motion. His entire existence had shifted; his perception of the universe irrevocably altered. 

Staring at his boy, Vader was only now finding himself realizing just how much had changed and how much everything was now different. He could hardly wait to truly know his son. 

And, this little droid was delaying this. 

Coming close, Vader clasped the boy gently but firmly by the upper arm and pulled him up and out of his way. 

“Hey!” Luke cried indignantly. 

He quieted instantly as Vader released his irritation and a tendril of anger down along the bond. “You may enjoy his company all you like after I have ensured his security,” he snapped curtly. He was not jealous, most certainly not over a droid! Luke was _his_ son after all. The boy would learn to feel such emotions around him as well; it would only be a matter of time. 

Crouching by the Astromech droid, Vader pulled out one of the restraining bolts he carried in one of the pouches lining his utility belt; he then took out a sleek little multitool from another compartment. As Vader expected, the droid did not retreat but he was subjected to a low string of binary that told him in detail what would happen if Vader’s hand wandered. The astromech then continued, now carefully describing exactly what he would do to Vader if the Dark Lord hurt his precious master. It was soft enough that Luke would have hardly heard a sound. Vader smirked, tempted to enact a prank on the little Astromech but was again distracted when said boy dropped to his knees beside him. Vader was once more taken aback by the fearlessness this child constantly displayed. Few would come near him so willingly, so easily. 

So much, too much like his father. 

“Do I even want to know why you have a restraining bolt on you?” He asked, half-curious and half-wry. 

“You never know when you will need a device of some sort,” Vader said easily. “It is best to carry some small but useful items with you at all times.” 

Luke hummed. “I can’t disagree with that.” 

Vader noted how his son’s hand drifted to cover one of the pockets in his ragged pants—his boy would need a new wardrobe; one better suited to him and his station. A brush of the Force told him that there were odd little metal and electronic bits there. Clearly, his son not only shared his love of machines and mechanical talent but also inherited his habit of carrying little mechanical bits and pieces with him. He suspected the boy would take to tinkering with them when he was bored or idle. 

Luke watched him very intently as he worked, evidently making sure Vader did nothing more than install the restraining bolt; he felt another ripple of amusement. Although, the boy had it right to be wary; Vader was seriously considering adding a few other unnecessary failsafes simply to aggravate Artoo. 

The little astromech deserved it. His lips twitched and he suppressed a chuckle. 

_How many times have I wanted to laugh this last hour?_ He mused, another twisting sensation in his chest. It didn’t hurt but it wasn’t exactly pleasurable either. 

“What happens if he tries to take it off?” the boy inquired carefully. 

“The worst case scenario,” Vader said flatly. 

Quickly, he attached the circular device onto the Astromech’s body; just below the dome and close to the central operating core. He double-checked that the restraining bolt was secure and working correctly before he rose and strode briskly for the chamber’s doors, returning his multitool to its customary pouch. 

Wordlessly, he exited the conference room, fully confident the boy would follow him. He had his son’s word after all. 

He heard Luke order the R2 unit to come along and, to his pleasure and satisfaction, quickly raced forward; there was just the faintest hint of hesitation but Vader would deal with that disobedience in time. Soon, Luke would listen to him and obey him without question. Soon, his son would trust him; would turn to him first. And, finally, stand with him. 

Against Palpatine, first and foremost. 

Against the Galaxy, if need be. 

He let his pace slow just enough for the boy to fall into step beside him. 

Once again, there was that clinging ghost of uncertainty and defiance, then the boy moved up to walk next to him. 

This was how it should always have been; his son at his side. 

And, from now on, this was how it _would_ be. 

Luke found himself glancing towards the Dark Lord frequently as they travelled down the empty durasteel corridors of the Star Destroyer in that strange yet comfortable silence. He wondered why he wasn’t long dead—mulled over how the Dark Lord had flipped from vicious, unmerciful and furious to… well, _this_. He hadn’t figured out exactly what all of this was yet either. But, from what he could see and tell so far was this: Darth Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith, had shown incredible restraint and patience with him. 

Honestly, Luke had expected to be severely punished when he had sniped at him. Yet, instead of striking him as was his right (Luke admitted this privately to himself; he had been disrespectful and he had promised he wouldn’t be after all), the Dark Lord had countered each of his retorts with barbs of his own, had more than tolerated his insolence. Luke recalled the flare of amusement and pleasure exuding from Vader whenever they matched wits and wills. Aside from the humor, he could feel the… fondness? Luke wasn’t sure how much he could believe what he had felt in the Force. His control wasn’t exactly the best… 

But, it didn’t take the Force to see how differently Vader dealt with him. 

The Sith handled him with a gentleness Luke was told Vader did not possess. Not only gentleness but protectiveness and concern—the vision of the shattered corpse of the Stormtrooper who had backhanded him flashed in his mind followed by the memory of Vader demanding the Imperial medic attend him and finally ending with him recalling Vader’s actions and reactions at Leia (unintentionally) leveling a blaster at him—Luke knew that he could not have imagined those emotions. There was that troubling, unnervingly overwhelming dark possessiveness too but Luke wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet. 

In spite of his erratic grasp of the Force, these feelings had come and gone and he had _felt_ all of them at one point. 

However, what caused the most bewilderment, along with a slew of indiscernible emotions, inside him was how he felt now. 

Walking beside Darth Vader. 

It felt so very right. Like nothing else ever had. 

As though, he should have been _here_ his entire life. 

That, more than anything that had happened so far, both exhilarated and frightened him immensely. 

What could it mean? For him? There was far too many underlying currents. 

Luke only knew he was about to find out. Very soon. 

In this manner, side by side, Darth Vader guided Luke Skywalker through the _Adjudicator_ , towards the Dark Lord’s private quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who didn’t see this coming? XD I really had to keep my mouth shut when I read all the reviews about R2 (I was literally cackling over the fact you all seemed to think that was it). I mean, given Artoo’s proclivity to do the unexpected; this shouldn’t have been that big a surprise, right? ^^  
> Yes. There is _another_ chapter. This is the main reason Chapter 3 came out so late; I had to revise to accommodate chapter 4.  
>  I confess that this story was supposed to end here; I had absolutely no intentions whatsoever in writing the Reveal… but, given the comments I received; I realized that it was very highly anticipated. So, I decided to add a Reveal Scene after all. See, feedback does work! xP Though, it gives me a lot of more work… but then again, I’m far too easy to convince when it comes to more Vader and Luke interaction. Please don’t expect the chapter anytime soon, however. I’m going to be writing the entire chapter from scratch, unlike this story which only required encoding and some editing to allow a smooth transition into the new chapter.  
> As always, feedback is much appreciated and thank you very much for reading! Very special thanks to all who have reviewed, for the generous Kudos, the Bookmarks and the Subscriptions!


End file.
